Tito, Get Me a Tissue

It's been a rather sad week, I think.

For all the scandals and circuses, the musical icon of my generation is gone. Like Elvis, like the Beatles, love him or hate him, Michael Jackson changed music forever. I feel lucky to have been witness to it.

I saw this the other morning on Good Morning America and cried. I think the reason it gets me is the song is from when he was a just a boy singer and not the King of Pop. Most of the pictures they show are of him performing and there's such joy in them--not the creepy mugshots or the paparazzi pictures. I'm sad for his kids, and for his mom.

Anyway, for Michael Jackson fans, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.



Last night, however, I caught part of the documentary special about Farrah Fawcett's fight with cancer. I didn't watch it all because, quite frankly, it was too hard. I think it was hard to watch because throughout it all she was so brave and honest about her feelings, her struggles and her pain. You had to admire her great strength of spirit, and her great faith. And despite the ups and downs she and Ryan O'Neal have had, it was obvious how deeply they loved each other and how desperately they clung together through all of it. I'm sad for him.

But while I admire and respect the woman she became, it was hard not love her for the sassy young thing she was.

So for Angel fans everywhere...lest we forget.
Been a lot of death this week, I'll tell you what.

I was at a funeral this morning too for a dear old lady from our parish. I hope someday to be a dear old lady, though I think I'll probably be more of a spunky old gal. Here's hoping I get more years on earth than Michael and Farrah did. Perhaps my star will burn longer since it doesn't burn quite as brightly.