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thatcrazycajunA double shocker in the news today: two pop-culture icons, one from the 1970s and one from the decade after, are both taken from us on the same day. Michael Jackson, the troubled, gifted scion of Motown's first family of music, died at his Holmby Hills mansion in California of a heart attack at 50; and Farrah Fawcett, whose portrayal of pulchritudinous private investigator Jill Monroe in the iconic ABC drama Charlie's Angels set the stage for a surprisingly brilliant and far more serious later acting career, succumbed to cancer at 62 after a well-publicized, years-long struggle against the disease. CNN reports on Jackson's death here, and on Fawcett's here.
Much has been made of the Gloved One's eccentric behavior, bizarre physical metamorphosis and questionable associations with young boys in his later years; I prefer to remember the phenomenally talented child who first burst onto the scene with his four brothers as the Jackson Five, singing "A-B-C" and "I'll Be There" at the top of his amazing, prepubescent voice...and then solidified his hold on the title "King of Pop" as a young man with his legendary "moonwalk" dance and songs like "Billie Jean," "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" and "Thriller." And similarly, though Farrah's famous blonde-maned, toothy-smiled good looks suffered tremendously as a result of her illness, I choose to recall her as she once was, in her famous bikini-poster pose and her jiggling about handling assignments for Charles Townsend Investigations alongside co-stars Jaclyn Smith, the late David Doyle and Kate Jackson, before she pulled a Suzanne Somers and got herself booted from the show with excessive demands for increased compensation. And still later, we got to watch as the cheesecakey ingenue morphed into a bona fide actress winning nominations for Emmys, Golden Globes and other awards in plays like Extremities and films like The Burning Bed. She even had the courage and strength to turn her illness into a means to give hope and inspiration to others likewise suffering, by documenting her treatment for a two-hour NBC special.
With the passing of Ed McMahon earlier this week, some have reminded me of the old truism that bad things come in threes; I dearly hope we can expect no more than three such talents' deaths for a while now. My heart, thoughts and prayers are with both Michael's and Farrah's families, friends, coworkers and fans (particularly Michael's brothers and sister Janet, and Farrah's ex-husband Lee Majors and longtime boyfriend Ryan O'Neal) in this most difficult hour. One may also hope that both of their souls—especially Michael's—have finally found peace wherever they may now reside.
Much has been made of the Gloved One's eccentric behavior, bizarre physical metamorphosis and questionable associations with young boys in his later years; I prefer to remember the phenomenally talented child who first burst onto the scene with his four brothers as the Jackson Five, singing "A-B-C" and "I'll Be There" at the top of his amazing, prepubescent voice...and then solidified his hold on the title "King of Pop" as a young man with his legendary "moonwalk" dance and songs like "Billie Jean," "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" and "Thriller." And similarly, though Farrah's famous blonde-maned, toothy-smiled good looks suffered tremendously as a result of her illness, I choose to recall her as she once was, in her famous bikini-poster pose and her jiggling about handling assignments for Charles Townsend Investigations alongside co-stars Jaclyn Smith, the late David Doyle and Kate Jackson, before she pulled a Suzanne Somers and got herself booted from the show with excessive demands for increased compensation. And still later, we got to watch as the cheesecakey ingenue morphed into a bona fide actress winning nominations for Emmys, Golden Globes and other awards in plays like Extremities and films like The Burning Bed. She even had the courage and strength to turn her illness into a means to give hope and inspiration to others likewise suffering, by documenting her treatment for a two-hour NBC special.
With the passing of Ed McMahon earlier this week, some have reminded me of the old truism that bad things come in threes; I dearly hope we can expect no more than three such talents' deaths for a while now. My heart, thoughts and prayers are with both Michael's and Farrah's families, friends, coworkers and fans (particularly Michael's brothers and sister Janet, and Farrah's ex-husband Lee Majors and longtime boyfriend Ryan O'Neal) in this most difficult hour. One may also hope that both of their souls—especially Michael's—have finally found peace wherever they may now reside.