This week has been a bit of a stunner on the pop-culture front. First , Tonight Show icon Ed McMahon passed away a few days ago after a long illness.
Earlier today, '70s pin-up and quintessential Charlie's Angel, Farah Fawcett, died after a two-year bout with cancer.
And just this evening, the King of Pop himself, Micheal Jackson, died suddenly from a heart attack at age 50.
I'm always struck by a mix of emotions when celebrities die. On a shallow level, it's news, it's gossip, it's that OMG moment because even though there are greater tragedies occurring all over the world at the same time, you know this will be headline news above war, injustice, crime, etc.
On a deeper level, there's the feeling that though these people were somehow removed from every day life and led almost fictionally dramatic or often charmed lives, they were still people with families who loved them and they will be mourned just as members of any family would be.
Then there's sort of a global level - it amazes me how the passing of an entertainer, an actress, a singer, even a princess, can make the whole world sort of stop for a moment. Whatever my personal opinion of a celebrity might be, I must always give them credit to have had the ability to touch so many people. To have been known and loved by millions around the world is an accomplishment in itself.