June 25th, 2009. A Day In The Life.
Or, in the cases of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson, The (Final) Day In The Life.
I read the news today, oh boy.
'bout two unlucky stars who once made the grade,
And though the news was rather sad,
I just had to laugh...
Actually, no I did not laugh. When I heard the news today I so didn't laugh.
I cringed.
First, the biggest sex symbol of my 1970's childhood has to go and die of "anal cancer," but then gets her own death sniped by an even bigger star from that same time period dying the same day, as well?
Wow, what did that Charlie's Angel do to deserve all that?
Back to how she died.
I'm not proud to admit this, because I know it speaks to how shallow I suppose I must be, but when I heard what kind of cancer she specifically had, I seriously cringed. Can't it just be "death by cancer?"
Does it really have to be "she died of anal cancer?"
So, I decided that I needed to find a prayer for not getting this, since it bothered me so much.
Note to God:
Dear God:
When my number comes up, can it please just not be anal cancer?
Listen, if it has to be the big "C" I will face up to this with as much bravery as I can possibly muster. And I really do promise to always fight the good fight and deal with whatever you dish out.
I promise that I will always go obediently into that good night whenever the Grim Reaper tells me to, but please. Please, please, dear God, in Heaven, just do not let it be that kind of cancer.
(Thank you.)
*Update: I think I should add that I just asked my daughter to read this over, which she did and then, in a matter-of-fact tone sternly warned me about the other Beatle's song,"Instant Karma."
Actually, yesterday I posted a much, much rougher draft of this...but my conscience bothered me.
Then, last night, something odd happened.
It was dusk and as we were driving home we slowed to approach an intersection.
As we idled at a red light a big old Cadillac approached from the left sailing past us like a hot knife through butter, except that as it passed by it suddenly, randomly, lost a hubcap.
Inexplicably, this one shiny hubcap peeled off the cruiser and spun frantically out into the intersection into wild, crazy arcs on the cement while we sat watching, transfixed by this unexpected spectacle.
Meanwhile the driver, oblivious to any loss, just kept on driving out of view.
The spinning hubcap came to it's final, spastic stop directly in front of us.
My daughter leaned forward and said just said one word.
"Karma," she said.
And I knew she just what she meant.
Karma, indeed.
So, I came home and rewrote this piece.
In a kinder, gentler way.
I read the news today, oh boy.
'bout two unlucky stars who once made the grade,
And though the news was rather sad,
I just had to laugh...
Actually, no I did not laugh. When I heard the news today I so didn't laugh.
I cringed.
First, the biggest sex symbol of my 1970's childhood has to go and die of "anal cancer," but then gets her own death sniped by an even bigger star from that same time period dying the same day, as well?
Wow, what did that Charlie's Angel do to deserve all that?
Back to how she died.
I'm not proud to admit this, because I know it speaks to how shallow I suppose I must be, but when I heard what kind of cancer she specifically had, I seriously cringed. Can't it just be "death by cancer?"
Does it really have to be "she died of anal cancer?"
So, I decided that I needed to find a prayer for not getting this, since it bothered me so much.
Note to God:
Dear God:
When my number comes up, can it please just not be anal cancer?
Listen, if it has to be the big "C" I will face up to this with as much bravery as I can possibly muster. And I really do promise to always fight the good fight and deal with whatever you dish out.
I promise that I will always go obediently into that good night whenever the Grim Reaper tells me to, but please. Please, please, dear God, in Heaven, just do not let it be that kind of cancer.
(Thank you.)
*Update: I think I should add that I just asked my daughter to read this over, which she did and then, in a matter-of-fact tone sternly warned me about the other Beatle's song,"Instant Karma."
Actually, yesterday I posted a much, much rougher draft of this...but my conscience bothered me.
Then, last night, something odd happened.
It was dusk and as we were driving home we slowed to approach an intersection.
As we idled at a red light a big old Cadillac approached from the left sailing past us like a hot knife through butter, except that as it passed by it suddenly, randomly, lost a hubcap.
Inexplicably, this one shiny hubcap peeled off the cruiser and spun frantically out into the intersection into wild, crazy arcs on the cement while we sat watching, transfixed by this unexpected spectacle.
Meanwhile the driver, oblivious to any loss, just kept on driving out of view.
The spinning hubcap came to it's final, spastic stop directly in front of us.
My daughter leaned forward and said just said one word.
"Karma," she said.
And I knew she just what she meant.
Karma, indeed.
So, I came home and rewrote this piece.
In a kinder, gentler way.
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