You Gotta Have Faith


george-michael-11282050798rexrSorry it’s been a long time.  We’ve been holiday-busy and traveling, and apparently it’s hard to find a good driveway resurfacing contractor in Austin.  Ah, the joys of home ownership …  But now everything is wrapped up, the Christmas gifts are away, family is visited, and we’re wrapping up the year huddled around a crackling fire, marveling at the great big scythe the Grim Reaper has dropped on the music and film industry.  George Michael this time.  I wasn’t a huge fan, but he was one of those guys that, it was just comforting he was out there.  But he squeaks in to add to 2016’s unreasonable celebrity body count with days to go.  Carrie Fisher was touch-and-go there as well.  If I were a celebrity in Hollywood, I would be quaking in my Prada boots, watching the seconds tick away until New Years.

I was over it by the time Prince died.  In fact, I’m pretty sure me and my friends might have inadvertently killed Prince and Alan Rickman.

Not intentionally, mind you – we didn’t put plutonium under Rickman’s bed or drug prince’s green tea or anything.  We killed them by jinx.  When David Bowie died, we all sat around the table at a pizza parlor and lamented.  I loved David Bowie, but my friend Kate loved him even more.  She was beside herself and she began speculating as to who might be next.  I remembered that celebrity deaths seem to come in threes …  Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, and whomever else passed away around that time … sorry whomever it was.

Kate started speculating as to who it might be, and said with dread that she thought it might be Prince.  As a Jehovah’s Witness, he was likely to eschew doctor care, and Kate was just terrified because as much as she loved Bowie, I think she loved Prince more … she was still smarting from Michael.

I said something along the lines of “Well, it may not be Prince, but it will probably be someone.”

The next day, Alan Rickman was pronounced dead.burning-1834729_1280

A few months later – goodbye Prince.

I don’t expect your forgiveness.  I just want you to understand.  Alan Thicke, then George Michael, then … who?

Sorry to be so macabre.  What I mean to say is, “Merry Christmas!”

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