End of an Era

It may seem strange for me to comment on the death of Michael Jackson. I am, however, 39, and was avidly listening to the radio and watching MTV at the height of his popularity. I watched his decline into strangeness with a kind of sadness for him, wondering what kinds of demons must have plagued him. And now, to hear of his death, I am saddened for a couple reasons. First of all, a man gifted with phenomenal talent, a man who had an influence on, I would bet, all our lives in a big or a small way, has died. I mourn that in itself. I am sad for those who love him. And I am a little sad for myself. As I age, so will all those stars I enjoyed in my teen years - actors, musicians, athletes. I'm sure I'll outlive many of them, and their deaths will remind me of my aging, and with that comes a kind of nostalgia. 

But the bare bones of the thing? A man has died. I will stop and pray for his friends and family for just a moment tonight. May God comfort them, and may a part of that comfort be the joy that Michael Jackson brought to so many lives with his amazing talents.