Today has been a sad day. Both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson have died. One very expected. One very sudden.
Farrah Fawcett was the background girl to be when I was a child. The flipped hair…I have a picture of my attempt somewhere. She was strong, interesting, smart, yet beautiful and popular. Really beautiful.Then there were the tv movies that brought issues like domestic abuse home and hope. Yeah, I wanted to be her when I grew up…complete with Lee Majors.
Then Michael Jackson…there were the little kid Michael Jackson shows I saw here and there. Then…Thriller…the build up…the trip to my sister’s house (she lived nearby at the time and had CABLE!) I remember the drama, the goosebmps, the sheer wow factor…sitting on the dark floor watching this guy and some zombies. Of course, I had the album. And the Bad album. There was no getting away from him being part of the soundtrack of my life. I did a white glove thing for a while while finding out who I was at 13. I tried and failed for years to be able to moonwalk. Not only that…his birthday was the only celebrity birthday ever listed with mine.
I never was a fainting fan. I did get goosebumps every time I saw a live interview or live show on tv. He had sparkle…not just on his clothes. He turned it on and off but he had incredible sparkle. His performances are unforgettable.
So, just a bit of my 70s and 80s childhood…and a feeling like I am indeed getting old and it isn’t just those “old” people on tv when I was a kid who die and make me sad.