Whitney Houston, I can't believe it. And I suspect I owe an apology to the Amy Winehouse fans.
Flashback to almost 30 years ago. I'm a heavy metal fan and despite my interests in Science Fiction, Gaming, and politics to the right of Ghengis Khan, I'm really a very insular fellow. Whitney Houston's singing stirred me to the very soul. Also the fact I was barely post pubescent and Whitney was my ideal woman! Female, Human, Breathing! I was shaken to the core to find ALL my friends agog for this sweet angelic voice. Some of us even planned to visit LA, to have a fist to face talk with Mr Brown about appreciating the value of what was foolishly wasted on him. I channeled my inner Ghandi, and advised passivity. After all, since my wide circle of friends all loved Whitney, it stood to reason that Bobby's comeuppance would arrive from an area with reduced shipping costs. Plus none of us wanted to horrify the good woman, by beating her husband, while screaming at him in English, and Irish.
We watched the comeback, dismayed we consoled each other that it was a shame that she who had everything, or could have had it all, at once if she wanted it, threw it away so carelessly.
I cried this last week, not only for her loss, but for the loss of those innocent kids, more that a generation ago, who thought they were so badass, and so bulletproof invulnerable. And would have cheerfully put a beat down on Bobby Brown, and his whole rappin' world. I never met a Judas Priest, or Ozzy, fan, who wasn't a leather-clad knight in shining armor.
Your knights miss you Whitney, Love you Forever!
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