The Passing of Icons

When I was in 5th grade, my friend Traci and used to play "Charlie's Angels Meet the Bee Gees." Remember when the Scooby Doo gang teamed up with Batman and Robin or the Harlem Globetrotters? It was something like that. It didn't quite make sense as to how or why the two parties meshed, but they did. Traci was the 4th Angel, helping Kate, Jacklyn and Farrah, while I was the 4th Bee Gee, and we would solve our own mysteries in the hollow behind her house. Farrah would soon leave the Angels on ABC to be replaced by her cousin, Chris Monroe, but Cheryl Ladd had some big "hair" to fill and never quite managed to pull it off, in my humble opinion.


Shortly thereafter, in the summer of 1979 (between 5th and 6th grade), I remember going to a swimming pool in Newport or Ft. Thomas with my mom and sister and some cousins and hearing, for the very first time, "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough." It came over the pool's sound system right after "Silly Love Songs" by Paul McCartney and Wings and I was completely captivated. I found myself wanting to break into dance right then and there (from which I refrained for fear of being teased by my cousins). But I knew I was hooked on dance pop music (have been ever since).


Fast forward...1982. I had just started high school, and the Thriller album arrived in my hands as a Christmas gift that December. I listened to that LP over and over and over again, first energized by "Wanna Be Startin' Something," then intrigued by the chipmunk-like backing vocals of "P.Y.T." Then, of course, came the videos for tracks 4, 5 and 6: "Thriller," "Beat It," and "Billie Jean," not necessarily released in that order. Michael Jackson, it seemed, could do no wrong (at least then) and I was a fan!


Now Farrah and Michael are both one with history. 62. 50. Seems so young, really. I feel relief that Farrah is no longer suffering from the ravages of her cancers. I feel sadness that Michael will not have his chance for a comeback, regardless of how likely it was to even happen. But I also feel mortally vulnerable...my past, my childhood, all beginning to disappear, one piece at a time. Just within the past few years, some of my former high school classmates have also moved on: Guy, Fred, most recently Denny. I feel that some honor should be paid to those fallen fellow Cavaliers who weren't pop icons but are still missed.


I hope they're all now getting their groove on while Michael performs his greatest hits and Farrah sits at a table near the back, laughs and tosses her hair back across her shoulder. I know one day (hopefully later than sooner) I too will be out on that eternal dance floor, never stoppin' 'til I get enough.