A mausoleum full of half empty hairspray bottles and frayed glitter gloves.

This isn't really my idea of a good time. First Farrah and then Michael? I usually try not to pay too much attention to celebrity gossip. Sometimes it's fun to see pictures of those silly celebs running around acting all high and mighty. But most of the time, I'd rather be captivated by the way these men and women portray characters on the big screen. Or hear their poetry set to the strum of a guitar, the kick of a drum. But this is different. The only other time I can remember in recent years, that I felt this strongly about a celebrity death, was January 22, 2008. Heath Ledger. I remember it was senior year and there were midterms to be taken. Essays to write, math problems to solve. But instead of focusing on those words and numbers, I was focused on the motivation behind this man's death. Pretty much caught in the scandal of the media. This time, a man and a woman have died...all in the same day. One was "supposed" to happen and the other one was as sudden as a blizzard in the middle of July. And the entire time I'm watching coverage on both Farrah Fawcett's tragic battle with cancer and Michael Jackson's weakened heart, I can't help but to think of everyone who has been touched by both of these legacies. (No pedophile jokes, yo!) These two, Farrah and Michael, are completely opposite in character; one a beautiful and iconic woman with hair for miles and a smile to match it, the other a King in his own sense with dance moves that shake the world. But they're both symbols of the world. It's tragic. It's not cool when someone is so consumed by their cancer that they practically melt away. Just like it's not cool when someone is overtaken by an unexpected massive heart attack. She was 62. He was 50. What the hell? Fucked up, man.

The important thing to remember while all of this media attention continues, is that the careers of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett cannot be the only defining factor. She was a mother, a daughter, a friend, a sister. He was a father, a son, a friend, a brother. Two normal people in the loosest of terms. I'm a daughter, a sister, a friend, maybe one day a mother. Not so different.... Putting aside any unintentional rumors about molesting children, I'm pretty sure 50 years old is too young to die. There are a lot of people already who have fired out "good riddance, he was trash anyway" or "he may have had some good hits, but he still touched little boys." Wow...that's cool, guys. So did the little boy tell you this himself, or are you going off of what Wikipedia might have to say about the ruling of MJ's court trials? All I'm saying is what defines a person is not the media. Unfortunately, the truth may never be revealed now, but it's not like the public eye really had any business sticking their greedy noses into his business anyway. Before you start bashing Michael's affection for children, try taking a gander into the church around the corner...ya know, the one that's so deeply cherished for it's generosity? ... ya got any stories about the Priest? Or is there a justification cause he's in the Lord's house? I'm not a church goer myself, nor have I been diddled (it's a word) by Priests, so what truly gives me any say in the matter of faulty clergy? Point is, I don't know bout yo' Father Figures, just like you don't know bout the King of Pop. So instead of pointing a finger at rumored pedophilia in the pew or some squishy activity at Neverland Ranch, let's try to consider other qualities. Like the fact that Michael Jackson is probably the best dancer to ever grace a stage. Damn.

I think listening to the sounds of the Jackson 5 while Charlie's Angels plays on the tv in the background is the correct way to handle this. What do you think?