Michael Jackson and Farrah’s Last Will & Testament

Whenever a celebrity dies, it always amazes me the tears from the public, the massive media coverage and the strong opinions of individuals who had zero personal relationship with the deceased celebrity. Zero.

Reality check time, folks.

I got in a Facebook fight the other day with someone who told me, “Don’t be flippant. People are mourning.”  My question would be, “What are you mourning”?

Lest you think me some heartless soul, I did cry when Princess Diana died. I shed a tear and offered a prayer for Mother Teresa, as well. Why did I cry? Their lives inspired me to be a better human being. They rose above odds to find their niche making the world a better place.  

I typically mourn people for two reasons; if I knew them personally or if they impacted me to live larger and greater as a person.

 But where I don’t understand the human race in general is in this eulogizing star factor.  On the same day Michael Jackson passed, roughly 146K non-celebrities died.  Many of these normal folks will be missed for noble reasons we as a culture may never know.  

I am sure several thousand deceased had more inspiring stories than many headlined celebrities.  For the most part, I’d rather see in the news feeds, one person a day, with a moving life/death story who wasn’t famous than 280K articles and blips about stars and mourning, despondent fans.

I know I am stepping on toes by saying so.

When it comes down to it, at the end of this journey we call life, every one of us leaves behind a legacy of sorts. Unless you’re in Michael Jackson’s will or knew him personally, odds are his legacy to you is his music, his influence on pop and, umm, that’s it. I can say I respected the man for his dancing, for being a showman of unprecedented abilities and for impacting an entire culture to get up and move ala Michael.

 I loved his music. I did.  

 On the flip side, I found him weird as a person.   Wrapping his own kids in veils much of their lives, feeling compelled to sleep in bed with children, perpetually a juvenile in an adult’s body, and living about 30 million beyond budget a year, do not impress me. Sorry. Maybe if I knew him, my feelings would be different. It’s possible there was a whole other Michael the media didn’t portray.

Did Michael Jackson motivate me to be a better human?  That would be like me saying I am inspired by Britney Spears parenting.

What did Michael Jackson leave me as a legacy? Several tunes to sing out loud, some dance moves to emulate and a fondness for red zipper jackets.  

Then there’s Farrah Fawcett. It pains me to see both names in a row, because they represent a loss, each in their respective way.  Somehow these deaths and lives bear a striking contrast, almost a correlation of cosmic opposites. 

Michael’s death was startling and unexpected. Farrah’s, which came after a well publicized fight against cancer, was not totally unforeseen.

 Each of these celebrities was a cultural icon.

 Nearly every person on the planet knows what the Moonwalk is.  Michael Jackson left his mark in the way of dance and glitz. He started as the kid from Gary, Indiana who “made it”.

Though a no-brainer show, Charles Angels was the launching point for Farrah’s stardom. The majority of girls in the 70’s emulated Farrah Fawcett hair, (and wished for her body). Not to mention most males having “the poster” as a central part of their décor and fantasies at one point or another.

One started as a rising child star and the other began being portrayed as a somewhat ditzy female bombshell. Here’s where I feel the legacy difference began in earnest.

As Michael Jackson aged it was like he regressed or attempted to reject being an adult. There is little “adult” about his life and pleasures. What was attractive in a kid is vastly distasteful in a supposedly mature man.

However, as Farrah matured, she left the ditzy blond image behind and became a woman of substance, integrity and yes, inspiration. I will never forget being blown away by her depth of acting in the Burning Bed. Wow! She could say more than, “Hello Charlie”. 

 Some might argue posing for Playboy at age 48 was shameless, but I see it as the woman side of her.  And I respect her for that. How many of us aging baby boomers would like to be considered sexy at 40 anything?

What I will remember her for, was using her cancer to create an open format for others to see the whole side of chemo, surgery and treatments.

She was noble in her pain. Courage is not the absence of fear; it is action in the face of it. To me, Farrah displayed great courage. She was open in her fight, her pain and her hopes. We “knew her” as best as we can a celebrity.  Farrah did not lose the fight. She won the hearts of many. She died a victor of life, leaving us a legacy of valor in the face of our own inevitable deaths.

Michael’s life and death are perhaps always going to be cloaked in secrecy. Do any of us really know for fact the “skin” condition he had? Or why his features changed faster than the stock market? Will we ever know the truth of the conflicting stories of his cardiac failure? Probably not.  He lived in mystery and died amidst it.

And frankly, I find Michael as a victim of fame and life, while I believe Farrah to be a conqueror by facing her pain and sharing it. I see one of these celebrities leaving a legacy of courage, the other left a last will and testament to great music. Each will be missed, but only one captures my soul with an inspirational legacy.

I pray I die with the courage of Farrah, as open and as strong. I hope those who mourn me, miss the real person I was. I wanna dance like Michael, and die like Farrah.

This brings me to the question we all should ask, every day- “What’s my legacy to the world?”