Rest In Peace

It's been a sad day for pop culture fans. This morning, Farrah Fawcett passed away after a lengthy battle with cancer. Amidst all the tabloids and criticism, Fawcett was always my favorite Charlie's Angel.

This afternoon, while sitting at my weekly sushi dinner with friend and soon-to-be roommate, K, I look up at the television to see that Michael Jackson passed away after going into cardiac arrest at his California home. Say what you may about his personal life, it's not appropriate to state so at this time. For many within my generation, Jackson's passing feels like a death of our childhood. John Mayer twittered, "I think we'll mourn his loss as well as the loss of ourselves as children listening to Thriller on the record player."

I personally remember at age four, wearing my red leather (okay, pleather, blame Mom and Dad) MJ-wannabe jacket, with my Michael Jackson branded toy microphone (the 1980s were an odd time for toys) singing in living rooms (of my family's and my neighbors) along to Thriller and Billie Jean. Today, it's impossible to look at Jackson's legacy and not think of how he paved pop music to be as it is for Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, and all the other guilty-pleasure artists that we have on our XM radios and iPhones. I know my ears are eternally grateful.


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