40 is the new 30... and 50 is the new dead

I don't really follow any real celebrity personalities. I really just don't care about who their dating, or 'wearing', or if they like to play bongos in the buff-- (who doesn't really). However, the recent deaths of Michael Jackson and... believe it or not Billy Mays actually made me a little sad. Not tears or depression-- nothing that would cause me to travel to the Walk of Fame on a commemorative pilgrimage. Without disrespect, I compare it to washing your pants and realizing there was a twenty dollar bill in the pocket-- an "ah crap, I just ruined a twenty" moment. Not a huge deal, but you start thinking about what you could have done with that twenty and you're a little sad. That was me.

In honor of Michael Jackson's life (not death) I wore a sparkly glove from June 25 until the end of the month and listened to nothing but Michael Jackson (or Jackson 5) on my iPod. I think it was very difficult not to have an opinion on Michael Jackson-- mine was that he really was Peter Pan, a boy that never grow up. The death of an icon is an event. People can tell you where they were when they heard that other musical legends Elvis Presley and John Lennon had died. Jackson revolutionized the music (and dance) world and I for one will miss him.

The King is dead.

Now this one surprised me. Billy Mays. I watch the Discovery Channel show Pitchmen devotedly, not because I was a fan of any of the characters, but more so for the inventions and tools coming to market-- the journey grabbed my attention and I was hooked. It was only in a recent memorial tribute to Billy Mays where he was described as "a big burly, bear-of-a-man with a kind and soft heart" that I realize why his passing moreso than that of any other famous personality affected me. My father who shared those same qualities also passed at the age of 50 from severe heart failure.

They shared other common attributes as well.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE... oh wait, nevermind. Sadly that is all there was.

You'll be missed!

A Tribute to Taking it Easy

Take It Easy-- The Eagles

Well, I'm running down the road tryin' to loosen my load.

Ive got seven women on my mind.

Four that wanna own me, two that wanna stone me, one says shes a friend of mine.

Take it easy, take it easy. Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.

Lighten up while you still can. Don't even try to understand.

Just find a place to make your stand and take it easy.

Well, I'm a standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona and such a fine sight to see.

Its a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford slowin' down to take a look at me.

Come on, baby, don't say maybe. I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me.

We may lose and we may win though we will never be here again.

So open up, I'm climbin' in, so take it easy.

Well I'm running down the road trying to loosen my load, got a world of trouble on my mind. Lookin' for a lover who won't blow my cover, shes so hard to find.

Take it easy, take it easy. Don't let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy.

Come on baby, don't say maybe I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me.

We got it easy, we oughta take it easy.

I hate the Eagles-- always have and probably always will! It's just country music trying to disguise itself as classic rock. There I said it!
The point of this is not to enrage the hordes of faithful Eagles fans who've accidentally stumbled onto this blog looking for the lyrics to Take it Easy. No. Rather it is a tribute to one such Eagles fan, my Dad! Someone who could truly identify with those twangy vocals. A man for whom taking it easy was never as simlpe as it sounded in the song. And today I miss him more than usual.

Time to take it easy Dad!