holy icon, Batman!

Three icons from my childhood died last week and I'd be lying if I said it didn't freak me out a little bit. Not in a "Whoa I'm shedding tears and heaving in grief" kinda way. Just, "Whoa."

First, Ed McMahon.
Now his death was overshadowed by the other two, but he was definitely a household name growing up. Star Search was one of my favorite TV shows as a kid. I still remember watching Sinbad (I'm sure none of you know who the hell he is, but he rose to 80s/90s stardom from Star Search) and Rosie O'Donnell.

And after Star Search and the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson (yes, I know, I'm dating myself here) there was also the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes. Holy smokes! I can't tell you how badly I wanted to see Ed walking up my sidewalk carrying a load of balloons and congratulating me for winning the multi-million dollar jackpot just because I took a chance and ordered my Cosmo from the Sweepstakes mail out.

Then Farrah died. I blogged about her death on Friday over at my personal blog. Her death was the saddest for me. I wanted to be Jill Munro. I wanted to have Farrah's hair and smile. I stared at her poster every day for multiple years, trying to just soak up the essence of Farrah. I'm pretty sure I did not succeed at becoming Farrah by osmosis, but I tried. In her honor, I watched several of the original Charlie's Angels tv episodes this weekend. And I wore Farrah hair out Saturday night. (which promptly fell because it was A: humid and B: I danced and sweated like a glass of iced tea on a hot summer day.)

Last but not least, Michael Jackson. Now I'm a little sick of the media attention his death has gotten and I hated the person he became as he aged, but little Michael Jackson of the Jackson 5, and the Michael Jackson all the way through the album BAD, was the Michael Jackson that was huge in my life.

Thriller is probably one of the best albums ever. MJ was a gifted performer, he just had some personal (and probably mental) issues that overshadowed his talent and took over his life. Which is unfortunate.

So last week, I lost 3 people that I grew up with. Am I devastated? No. I didn't "know" these people, so I don't feel a real sense of loss. But it's still sad knowing that three icons of my childhood all died in just a matter of days. Freaky weird.

Hope they all find peace in their afterlife.

Celly Come Home

He drifted away into the night without so much as a beep. There were no warning signs. And while, yes, it is true that Celly and I had only been together since May, we grew close quickly. Our dedication, reliance on one another, the depth of what we shared came in a lightening flash and blossomed.

And now he's gone.

If I knew where he'd gone. If I knew he was with someone else... some stranger, perhaps with a flashier car, a designer purse with a little pocket just for him... well, perhaps it would be easier. But Celly and I were together one moment, and the next he was simply not there. I spent the morning retracing my steps. CVS. Roche Brothers Market. The Office (Starbucks). I've called out, checked beneath gum-wadded tables. I've wept.

It's as if he never existed. It's as if Celly had not hugged my hip, tucked inside my jeans, with loyalty and a solid determination to serve all these months. As though what we shared daily were a trick of the mind, a tangled memory that was only a dream. And yet I feel that loss, the emptiness of glossy black weight where he nestled in our time together.

Yes, Celly is gone and I don't know where, or why, or even if it was something I did. I've lost more weight recently. My jeans are loose and I've had some cash slip out of my pockets. Was he displeased with the loss of that extra padding? Did I callously fail to hear the dreaded thud of his impact with a cruel floor? Is Celly somewhere, tucked into a lost and found bin, missing me?

I may never know, but I hold out hope. I search for it. I burn to know he is safe, somewhere close, waiting for me to find him.

Celly... if you're out there... come home to me. I don't need to know where you've been... who you've been with. I'll erase the call list and never even look at it. Just come home, baby... come home.