The Enid News and Eagle, Enid, OK

Opinion

July 15, 2009

Maybe it’s not the man, but the moment in time

I agree with columnist Cal Thomas’ view on society’s overindulgence where celebrities and their lives and deaths are concerned. Up to a point, anyway. Yes, I agree the Michael Jackson thing has been a bit over the top, considering the degree of creepiness he managed to maintain for so many years, plus the fact there now seems to be some question about who is going to foot the bill for his funeral service. (Well gee, let’s see ... how about the family?) But for those who grew up listening to his music and watching those frenetic dance moves, a certain amount of mourning and homage seems fair. After all, his time in the spotlight was pretty lengthy. And it wasn’t so long ago Elvis drew just such adulation and devotion for his voice and shockingly provocative moves. (I was a young Elvis Presley fan, and outgrew Michael Jackson along about the time he came out with that song about a rat named Ben.)

While implying today’s celebrity lovers aren’t entitled to their worshipful ways, Cal Thomas manages to drop a few names of the idols of his own era. Ella Fitzgerald, Mel Torme, Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra all were significant entertainers in their day, complete with personal baggage of their own, so what gives? What about to each his own, whatever floats your boat, different strokes for different folks, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and I say toh-may-toh, you say toh-mah-toh?

People have been gawking over celebrities since there have been people. It’s not just a fascination with their deaths, but a fascination with all the continual in-your-face gossip surrounding these idols. Folks get caught up in a celebrity’s successes and failings and all the eccentric little side trips in between. But more than anything, I think it’s the sense of loss of a personal era associated with our celebrities. That sense of remembering where you were in your life when you first heard “Strangers in the Night,” or “Love Me Tender,” or “Thriller.”

As a child of the ’60s, I miss the heck out of days listening to Cass Elliott, John Lennon and Sonny Bono. TV celebs even elicit fond memories. Michael Landon’s passing reminded me of long ago crushes including the ones I had on all those Cartwright boys – including Hoss! And the recent death of Bea Arthur? Those were some good years for me during the long run of “The Golden Girls.” I mourn that happy little chunk of time that’s now gone forever.

Not all celebs of my era deserve bragging rights. I mean, Farrah Fawcett was in there, but that poster of hers caused me a lot of personal angst at a tender age. Who could compete with that? JFK Jr. was another one. That adorable picture of little John-John saluting his father’s casket left us carrying him on our shoulders all his life. But why? Oh sure, he was handsome and hunky and all, but he wound up flying into bad weather without an instrument rating, sending himself and two passengers to their watery graves.

Ed McMahon, sadly, says Cal Thomas, got trumped by Farrah Fawcett who was trumped by Michael Jackson, but even Ed was a little odd. How do you think he was able to maintain that big old goofy guffaw after all of Johnny Carson’s attempts at humor? Then he gave all of America false hope he would show up on their doorsteps with a million dollars. On “Star Search” he often mispronounced the names of his cast of hopefuls and later had problems with personal relationships, mold exposure and mortgages.

And then we have the recently deceased folks who should have had a little bit better send off, like, Karl Malden, Milvinia Dean (the last Titanic survivor), Mickey Carroll (town crier among the munchkins), Paul Harvey, Pat Hingle (Batman’s Commissioner Gordon), Cheryl Holdridge (an original mousketeer) and Oscar Mayer Jr. (whom I didn’t even know was a real person, given the whole wiener song and all).

As for me, when I cash in the chips, I doubt we’ll need a police escort and the Staples Center. I’m no icon, but I would like a few niceties.

I’ll let the words of my gone-but-not-forgotten idol, John Denver, from his song “Forest Lawn,” present my funeral wishes:

To find a simple resting place is my desire,

To lay me down with a smiling face comes a little bit higher

Let the Drum and Bugle Corp play taps while cannons roar,

And 16 liveried employees sell souvenirs from the funeral store.

Oh take me when I’m gone to Forest Lawn!



Peck is a local mother and grandmother who works in Enid Public Schools. She can be reached at peckaroonie@yahoo.com.

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