I was never a fan particularly (I hated the show but if I had to pick an Angel it would have been Kate Jackson) and yet the death of Farrah Fawcett today has given me pause. When I was a young man, I used to love from afar and love hard but I fell out of the habit before I was out of my 20s. That was for the best, I think. But still... it just occurred to me that there will come a day and probably not too far off from now when all the women I ever loved from afar, from TV or the movies, will be dead. They were and are older than me, so they're all a lot farther up in the line to eternity. I wonder if I'll be sufficiently self-aware to call that collective time of death, to note that sad milestone. But even if the occasion slips by me, as so much does lately, it'll still be a hell of a day.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
And that's called sad
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9 Arbogasps:
Arbo, are you listening to Pictures of Lily right now?
Funny, I was more a Sabrina Duncan boy myself, as well. But Farrah was ... well, Farrah! Who didn't know her or the way she embodied the 70s woman! Very sad.
Although I have no strong feelings for Fawcett one way or another I still find myself kind of disappointed that Michael Jackson died on the same day and will steal her thunder. Partly because I have absolutely NO love, or like or even barely detectable interest in Jackson in any conceivable form and still fume thinking of how his lawyers painted those children and their parents in court - but anyway, I am sorry Farrah didn't have this day to herself. Because of the time I came of age I still call her Farrah Fawcett Majors. It had a nice flow to it. Divorce or not, she should've kept the name for the sake of style.
Anyway...
RIP Farrah.
Whether you're into certain celebrities or not, their lives and their deaths wind up defining or at least bracketing your life in some way. Love 'em or hate 'em, you know who they were and what they did and when they're dead that's just another part of your own life that's gone forever.
If you want to think of it that way.
I really appreciate this post, Arbo. I never had much connection with Fawcett, and never thought about her, but her death, and the suffering leading up to it, is just sad, on a basic human level. I've seen a lot of wretchedly hip-cynical horseshit on the internet today (like on David Poland's site) about how it's somehow unseemly or tacky to proclaim your sadness over her death because she'd never done anything that good. Therefore, you shouldn't be sad, you see. This attitude is a heartless and insincere reaction against those who go overboard when a celebrity dies, which does indeed happen. But I don't buy that explanation. I think Poland and his ilk are simply trying to mask their lack of empathy.
So, again, I appreciate this post.
Love 'em or hate 'em, you know who they were and what they did and when they're dead that's just another part of your own life that's gone forever.
You know when my childhood ends? The day Soupy Sales dies.
I always had a fondness for Farrah, because she was such a huge icon when I was a child and because her performances were often sweet and genuine. Never saw the show, not that I remember at any rate.
And Greg, my childhood died when Charles Nelson Reilly died. Not a good day for me.
I loved Charles Nelson Reilly too. If I had to pin down the top ten shows that defined the seventies for me, The Match Game would definitely be in there. Watching that show every day those guys, from Gene to Bret to Fannie, became a part of my extended family.
A big part of my childhood died when Darren McGavin died.
Since I was 6 years old I wanted to be Kolchak- in fact now that I think about it- my co workers think I'm crazy, I'm a coward and a smart ass.
I AM Kolchak!
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