I was a little sad today to learn that cancer had finally claimed Farrah Fawcett. Whatever you might have thought of some of her odd turns, she was iconic. I loved her in “Charlies Angels” — and I so desperately wanted that hair. (I had to settle for Kate Jackson’s surf haircut instead.)
Then what the hell? I have a nap this evening and wake up to hear Nigel Lithgow on “So You Think You Can Dance” talking about Michael Jackson dying? That one’s just surreal.
Call me jaded (and I acknowledge that I frequently am), but can you guess which one will result in epic outpourings of grief and news coverage that will rival that seen for Lady Di? Complete with Elton John singing a song for him, apparently.
(As an aside, TMZ? WTF? “In the moments following Michael Jackson’s death — so many people rushed to the Internet, that it practically stopped the entire WWW in its tracks”?????? Like, ohmygod, Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, and AIM are so not the “entire WWW”.
Hard to believe, I know.)
Life Begins at 41...or maybe 43 
I KNOW!!! The first thing I thought of when I heard about Michael Jackson later that same day? “Oh great. Now Farrah’s going to get totally overshadowed and gypped.” For real.