It has been a pretty monumental week or two as far as celebrity deaths go–we’ve got Billy Mays, Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Steve McNair…and unless you live on Mars, Michael Jackson. While I am sad about MJ’s death (my first ever album was Thriller), I think the most understated death was that of Farrah Fawcett. I really did not know much about her illness other than she was fighting with Enquirer about posting death pictures of her…until I watched her documentary Farrah’s Story.
She was a strong woman with limitless courage. This was in spite of being surrounded by spineless men, particularly her son and husband who were caught doing drugs together. Her son’s parting gift? He was incarcerated when she passed away, her only child. Dispicible. I was inspired by her will to live–she went to Germany for all kinds of alternative treatments and never gave up, even when her cancer came back again and again. It was quite a moving documentary; if you have not seen it, I recommend it.