Sad, Bewildering Day

I wasn't a fan of the Charlie's Angels series and I didn't watch The Burning Bed or any of Farrah's other movies. I knew her from talk show appearances, mainly on the Johnny Carson version of the Tonight Show and later on Letterman's late night talk shows. So, it's kind of odd that my most vivid memory of Farrah is that of her sitting on the couch with Ed McMahon - who, of course, also passed away this week.

At this writing, things don't look good for Michael Jackson who was rushed, not breathing, to the hospital after an apparent heart attack. My first album - the first album I ever wanted - was The Jackson 5's ABC. In spite of his weirdness through the years I was always a fan of his work. The J5 song "Stop, the love you save may be your own...." has been running around in my brain the past few days. Less than a month ago I had the most vivid dream that MJ was on a talk show, kind of like a Merv Griffin show, and he was just a normal guy. No sign of plastic surgery. In my dream he looked more like Christopher 'Kid' Reid (of Kid n' Play) than Wacko Jacko - and he was just ... well, normal. Fun. Easy going. I don't know. Maybe it means nothing. But I wonder if I had accidentally picked up on something MJ was hoping he could get to again. Some reports this hour have said it was a suicide, overdose of pills. Others say it was a strain on his heart from working out, getting in shape for a comeback tour. In spite of everything, in spite of all the weirdness, the man brought a lot of joy into a lot of people's lives.