The first thing that I thought about when I heard Whitney Houston died was "yeah, that's about right," immediately followed by, "oh great, now we'll have to hear about it non-stop for the next two weeks." I was right. It reminded me of the Michael Jackson death orgy of '09.
Much like Jackson, everyone seems to put on their rose-colored glasses to look back at her life and career. Sure, her death and the days leading up to it are scrutinized, but eventually everyone focuses on her "genius" and forgets that she died a drug addict. I don't consider drug addicts to be criminals or bad people, but maybe, just maybe, when someone famous dies because they took too many drugs, we shouldn't pretend like they didn't die because they took too many drugs. No one thinks twice about mentioning that David Carradine died by auto-
Much like Jackson, everyone seems to put on their rose-colored glasses to look back at her life and career. Sure, her death and the days leading up to it are scrutinized, but eventually everyone focuses on her "genius" and forgets that she died a drug addict. I don't consider drug addicts to be criminals or bad people, but maybe, just maybe, when someone famous dies because they took too many drugs, we shouldn't pretend like they didn't die because they took too many drugs. No one thinks twice about mentioning that David Carradine died by auto-
For me, the most infuriating thing about this Whitney Houston mess is that everyone keeps talking about her beauty, her gift and her "grace." I'm guessing that they never watched "Being Bobby Brown" like I did. Yes, I admit it. I watched it. And it was awesome. I've been really surprised that almost no one has mentioned the show. Sure, it was supposed to be about Bobby, but much like every other aspect of his life, the real star was Whitney. Once she started showing up in every delicious episode, it became Must See TV.
I'm sure the people responsible for her legacy would rather we all forgot about the whole "KISS-MA-ASS!" incident. Yes, the true grace of Whitney sparkled on camera when she left the dinner table because she needed to "take a shit." And how could we forget the episode where Bobby explained how they were each others true love because, and I'm paraphrasing here, no one else would ever help her get a "doody bubble" out of her butt. A "doody bubble." There are so many things wrong with that on so many levels. If doody bubbles are a yardstick for true love, then Mark and I have been fooling ourselves for 14 years, and I'm OK with that.
There were a couple of other gems including her "hell-to-the-no!" catchphrase. Oh, and how could one forget when the whole family went to a restaurant after one of Bobby's (many) court appearances and took over the place with an impromptu concert. Or the time they tried to buy sunglasses in a hotel gift shop, and all they did was danced around and freaked out the employees. But my absolute favorite was when I got to watch Whitney go camping for two minutes until she realized that camping meant "outside."
Don't get me wrong, I'm sorry she's dead. Not because of "the music," but because she's leaving her daughter alone with only Bobby Brown as a parent. Considering the kid has already been in rehab, plus the fact her Mom just died in a hotel tub, I'm thinking this she's got a rough road ahead. That's the true tragedy in all of this. Well, that and the fact I've had "I Will Always Love You" stuck in my head for two weeks now. Thanks, Whitney.
1 comments:
Oh, I loooooved the train wreck that that show was, and remember each and every one of those Whitney "gems". It's like the show was made for The Soup. Seriously.
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