Two of the biggest pop music stars in my young life have died and it seems very surreal to me. I wasn't the biggest Michael Jackson fan, but I appreciated his music, did my best Moonwalk impression in my girlfriend's living room, and can proudly say that Thriller was the first albumn I ever owned. When I was young he seemed larger than life. Then drugs, depression, and weirdness destroyed him. So sad.
Last night, Whitney Houston was found dead. I was probably a bigger fan of her husband, but I Wanna Dance With Somebody was one of the music videos that my friends and I studied at nauseum to perfect our dance moves and crazy 80's hair, with scarf. I cried every time she started singing at the end of The Bodyguard, and fell in love with Kevin Cosner along with Whitney. I also thought it so cool that she named her daughter after her husband. She was a pretty big deal during my middle school years. Like Michael, drugs and craziness spun her life out of control.
I am not a drug user and don't understand how people, with important jobs and loving families, with loyal friends, and in this case adoring fans can't rid themselves of the poison that ultimately destroys them.
And if we continue to tolerate and even glorify that lifestyle, I can't help but wonder, who will be next?