I don't remember a lot about my childhood, just bits and pieces that come and go. But one very vivid memory I have is of my mother's music collection. It was massive and consisted of records and these things called cassette tapes (sidenote: I said 'tapes' to my teenager a minute ago and she had no idea what I was talking about. That was fun.). I remember her having at least a hundred records on shelves in the dining room and the one record on the end that was completely visible when you were walking into the room was Aerosmith (don't remember which album, it was red). But off to the side were three boxes of tapes, most of them in black plastic with clear covers, with the exception of two. One was in a bright red cover and another had a bright blue cover and they were both often at the top of the pile because my mom played them so often. The red one was Whitney Houston's debut album from 1985 and the blue one was the follow-up from 1987, simply titled "Whitney". As I got older those tapes introduced me not only to the most amazing voice I'd ever heard but also to Clive Davis (whom I wanted to be as a kid) and to the Grammys (which I wanted to win as a kid). It was such a big part of my falling in love with music. Maybe that's why it's a memory I still have when so many others are lost.
Of course as time went on, everyone would know her as just Whitney. You didn't need to say anything more, really. Adele, Mariah, Beyonce, none of them have careers now if Whitney hadn't paved the way. I don't know a single person who doesn't love at least one of her songs and there are so many amazing ones to choose from. She crossed into film and did that well, "The Bodyguard" soundtrack was awesome. But then she fell in with the wrong crowd, married a scrub, had a daughter with him and eventually went down the all too familiar drug and rehab path. And her voice deteriorated and her career tanked and she became a punchline (although she was brilliantly and respectfully parodied by Maya Rudolph, who ironically hosts SNL next week) and we all started to get that feeling that this was not going to end well. But there was hope for a comeback and the man who discovered her all those years ago tried to revive her career with minimal success. I think the majority of people wanted to see her kick her habits for good and get healthy and resurrect some form of a career, most likely in film since her voice was pretty much shot. But I guess it wasn't meant to be.It's not often I'm affected by celebrity deaths or compelled to write about them. (One death that seriously threw me off was Heath Ledger's and I wasn't sure why until I realized that I was dangerously close to ending up where he did.) But I haven't talked to anyone tonight who isn't a little emotional about this one. The general consensus is that it's just so sad. So much talent and so much more seemingly ahead and it's all gone, just like that. The music lives on but you get a little sad when you listen to it now. I grew up on Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston and at a time when there were entertainers and not just record company created, auto-tuned people who are in it just for the fame. Back when it was about wanting to be on stage and grab a mic because it was what you loved and what you truly felt like you were meant to do. And when you had jaw-dropping talent. Sadly, those days are long gone and, perhaps even more upsetting, so much of the talent from back then is departing this world amidst whispers of drugs and bankruptcy. It would appear that having it all isn't all it's cracked up to be.
On a related note, I just had an interesting conversation with my mom about the pre-Grammy party going on in the very hotel where Whitney Houston died. I made the point that while I wasn't surprised the party was still on, I thought it in bad taste. I'm sure it's less of a party now and more of a memorial but it just seems so morbid to have that happen three hours after the death, especially when the person you're memorializing is still in the hotel. My mom thinks there was no other option but to go forward with the plans and mentioned that people celebrate at funerals all the time, so what's the difference? I see her point but I still think it's all way too morbid, and that's saying something since I tend to have a morbid fascination with death in general. Agree to disagree on this one, I guess. Either way, RIP Whitney.
