14 February 2012

One Moment In Time

Whitney Houston's passing has been a tough one but also a time to reflect and be still. As it was the weekend Princess Diana died, I saw the news on the internet, and went into 'stunned' mode. I picked up supper and brought it home. Industry town that Los Angeles is, the timing of her death,the Grammy's, the Academy Awards coming up, the town got very quiet, and most people went into a fog. I was on the computer most of Sunday...but what I accomplished if anything is a blank.

I came out of that fog Monday afternoon. My opinion of the media dropped by the hour, and I've stopped looking at the news. While some of the online comments make me wonder if people in general have lost all compassion; overall most seem genuinely sad. The news that her daughter collapsed took me right back to 1975 with my own mother's death.

I remember so well when Whitney came on the scene: 1985, watching her music videos at happy hour. And up until about 5 or so years ago, I'd have bet money she was 10 years younger than me. This meaning that she would have to had been 14 when recording 'I Wanna Dance with Somebody'. Of course, I was so much more mature and sophisticated....yeah right.

My hope is the autopsy and subsequent toxicology reports will conclude that Whitney Houston simply 'wore out'. That may be wishful and 'look the other way' thinking on my part. As I struggle with my own issues, addictions and bored bad-boy-behavior, I know too well how very grey these areas are. I get very angry at those who toss the word 'druggie' about. In my opinion, anyone who sees a doctor and is given a prescription is as much a 'druggie' as someone buying pills under a streetlight on Skid Row. That's where I agree with Tony Bennett on legalizing all drugs.
The blessing in this has been I've been eyeing some on line programs targeting procrastination....which I could use a swift kick in the ass about. I've been looking or trying to look 'below the surface' because that's where my 'illness' is: the stuff I see when looking in the mirror are the symptoms.

And I wished and wished for an exciting life way back when. Oh my.

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