No More Death, I Mean It! (Anybody got a peanut?)

imagesMamacita says:  Every day, it seems, another icon dies.  It’s getting to the point where I am almost scared of my Twitter feeds – the letters “RIP” are appearing way too often, and they are taking my childhood with them.  They’re taking big chunks of my current life, too.

There are people who are always supposed to be there, even if they’re strangers we know only from the big screen, small screen, book covers, stage, radio. . . .  It’s getting to the point where watching a fairly recent movie wherein everybody in the cast is still alive is more and more rare.

Is this why so many television shows are killing off favorite characters faster than we can adjust our hearts to the loss, to help us cope with real people dropping off the face of the earth, no more to entertain or love us?  I’m not actually talking about people we know personally – family, friends, etc.  That is also happening at a rate faster than our hearts can take, but this post is about “celebrity” deaths that make us cry, because, in a way, we also love those who make us laugh, cry, and enjoy life more because they were there, even though these people don’t know us.

I can barely think of my beloved Madeline L’Engle without sobbing about never knowing what will happen to her characters now. . . .

I am thinking in particular of Roger Ebert and Richard Griffiths, but whenever I watch an old movie (or a new one, for that matter!) I find myself looking at the beautiful, healthy, talented people and wondering how they could possibly be dead.

Then again, maybe that’s one of the wonderful things about preserved media – it makes us all immortal.

I do have a message for all of you living people, however.  Here it is:

Don’t die.  I can’t take much more of this.

Then again, maybe I’ve just been watching too many “What’s My Line” celebrity guest shots from the 1950’s and ’60’s – so much talent, most of it gone.

Thank you, film, for preserving this talent so we can appreciate it years and years after these wonderful people have gone.

And now, I’m heading back to Tweetdeck, fingers crossed.

Also?  Hourglasses used to scare me to death when I was a child.  I think it has something to do with The Wizard of Oz.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *