First Ed McMahon, and now Farrah and Michael Jackson. From the news coverage, I knew that Farrah's death was only a matter of time. There were all these recent programs on her battle with cancer and the inevitability of her death, hoping against hope. At least she went out fighting.
In Jackson's case, that came as a real surprise to me. Last night, I took a walk in the hot sun and stopped at a convenience store to get a drink. Standing in the checkout line, with my radio headset on, I first heard the news. (They broke in on Clark Howard, so I knew it must be either a possible thunderstorm or something truly significant! We are obsessed with weather here, fo some reason).
As I resumed walking, I kept think back to the times I'd seen Jackson perform (on TV, never live) and how my ex-wife really enjoyed his music. I wasn't really a fan, and like many people saw his antics and changing appearance as really bizarre, culminating in the allegations of sexual child abuse. I'd thought, "This is a good example of how fame and wealth can make people behave very wierd." It definitely surprised me that he died so young -- I guess the full story will gradually come out (e.g., his apparent long-time heart problems, medications he took for pain). Nonetheless, even though I wasn't a follower of his music or activities, it was sad to get the news.