As I watched the news Thursday morning, I was saddened to hear that one of my childhood sex idols, Farrah Fawcett lost her long battle with cancer. She accomplished a lot in her 62 years here. Like most older fans, my first memories of her was of a rather ditzy blonde bomb shell, one of Charlie's Angels. It took her quite a while to cast off the image of being a dizzy blonde. She proved to America that she had much more to offer when, in 1984, we saw her in "The Burning Bed." What a great performance that was. Her last work, a documentary about the cancer that ended up killing her, was by far her best performance. It might just be because of my generation, but I'll take Farrah and the countless other sex kittens from the 60's and 70's over today's crop any day. They were so much more wholesome, and so much more earthly. The term "bimbo" was never really defined until their replacements came along.
Fast-forward to Thursday evening. I'm sitting at the bar of my favorite watering hole sipping on a White Russian and trying to keep up with the closed captions as I watch CNN news. Whoooaa! What's that, Michael Jackson was just rushed to the hospital? Yup. A short while later he's dead. Wow, I'm thinking. Two celebrities on the same day. Damn, I thought he was older than 50. I guess it's all those face-lifts and various other surgeries. I remember him as a child when it was the whole family. I thought he was pretty good back then. I even still enjoyed his music during the moonwalking and the Pepsi roasting commercials era. When he started playing around with the kids, well, that's when I quit listening. I have absolutely no use for pedophiles. He may have had enough money to stay out of jail, but I will NEVER have any doubt about his guilt. I am surprised his career managed to bounce back, it certainly wasn't because of me.
Talk about media imbalance. They never stopped covering his death until I left the bar in disgust about 4 hours later. Those fucking idiots Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson were there with their ugly mugs in front of the camera. Pathetic assholes! FOUR hours talking about that damned pervert. I'll bet it lasted a lot longer than that, but when I got home, I had control of the remote! If I hadn't caught the morning news, I never would have even known that Farrah Fawcett had died the same day. Where's the fairness in that?? As far as I am concerned, good riddance. To bad Al and Jesse couldn't have caught the same ride to Hell with him!