It's tough to watch documentaries when you know the outcome. Everything seems to lead to the end:
Oh WOW! Marvin's daddy seemed so cruel.
Oh WOW! Marvin did so much cocaine he lost track of the millions he spent on it.
Oh WOW! Marvin had a lotta hoes.
I made the mistake of forgetting how much influence his music had on our lives. They don't make music like that no more (when's the last time you heard someone say that?). I'd made it through the entire documentary stifling my urge to cry and bucking my eyes wide open to fight the gravitational pull of my tears and allowing the air to dry any traces. And how many documentaries show the body lying in the casket as the finale? Yeah... gare-on-teed tear-jerkin' 'goings on'. I think there was snot too, but who remembers.
Yesterday I changed my twitter status update to the opening lyrics to "Wake Up Everybody" by Harold Melvin and Teddy Pendergrass and The Bluenotes (yep, all of em). Could've been some kinda weird psychic intuition. Who else was thinking about Teddy P at the same moment? Maybe hundreds. Maybe more.
There I was, December 2008, thinking that the worst was over.
Here I am, January 2010, convinced that '09 was as bad as it could possibly get.
As bad as it could possibly ever ever get.
And with the deaths of music's, movie's and comedy's most influential people, came the reality that we will never hear anything new, never see fresh creations... from them again. Only in their honor.
And as sad as it may sound, I imagined worse.
What if every artist that left us, took their contributions and our memories with them, and we were never able to reminisce and feel them in their absence? Yeah, that would definitely be worse. So I originally planned to entitle this blog "Goodbye Music", in honor of the last of the greats slowly dwindling from our grasps.
But not from our hearts.
Not ever.
*clicking on any ads by Google on this blog will afford me a tissue to dry a single tear*
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