Double Whammy

Yesterday had to be one of the most surreal days I've experienced since 9/11. Farrah Fawcett passed away at around 12:30PM, and a few hours later, the news broke out that Michael Jackson had too crossed the proverbial finish line.

Michael. Fucking. Jackson.

I was at dinner with DT when her phone rang. She mentioned it was probably her lawyer as she'd been leaving messages for her all afternoon.

I zoned out and stared out the window. I try not to listen in on conversations, even the half that are happening in front of me.

I glanced at DT and saw her eyes had opened up so huge I really thought they were about to fall out of her head.

My first thought was that someone had died.

Then her jaw unhinged and hit the table. Really. It was like a cartoon morphing in front of me.

My second thought was that someone had definitely died, and it was likely someone in her family.

Then she moved the phone away from her face, looked at me and said, "Michael Jackson is dead".

She may as well have spoken in Mandarin because my brain did not compute one syllable of that sentence.

What. The. Fuck?!

I grabbed my phone and dialled Fried Beans. She's the biggest MJ fan I know. She didn't answer any of her 3 numbers. I was freaking out. Finally she phoned me back. She'd seen the news break on TMZ.com. She was still at the office. She started running around, trying to find someone to tell who would be just as flabbergasted as she was. The one person she did find simply shrugged at the news. I told her I'd call her when I got home.

DT and I spent the next few hours walking around the mall in a daze. I just wanted to scream "MJ IS DEAD!" at everyone who passed by. A lot of people hadn't heard yet and as we were discussing it, we could see heads turning and eyes widening.

We went into Jacob to look for clothes. While I was trying on some pants, I heard DT tell the girls at the cash register the news. "OH MY GOD!" and "WHAT?!" rang through the store. Finally, the same reaction that had been bouncing around inside my head.

We went to Hallmark to buy DT's Dad a birthday card. Her father had a heart scare a few months ago. He's around the same age as MJ. She'd mentioned the similarities. "But your Dad didn't die". "Well, he could have."

At the cash, she told the girl about the news. At that moment, a lady and her son were walking past us. The boy must have been 10 years old at the most. He piped up, "Yup, he's dead."

I whipped my head around, "You heard about it too?"

The mother explained, "We were in the food court and it came on the news on the TV down there."

Then the little boy made the same noise a heart monitor makes when someone flat lines. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. He hasn't hit the age yet when one realizes they are mortal.

DT and I made a beeline for the food court and watched the news for a while. I noticed everyone around us stopping and staring at the screen. Everyone was in Shock.

After getting home, I called Fried Beans again and we watched CNN together over the phone. We mostly watched in silence, but every once in a while, she'd randomly yell NO. We talked a bit about our memories of MJ from our childhood. I had wanted that red zipper jacket so badly. My father yelled at me because it cost something like $99, which back in 1985 was a truckload of money. She told me a story about stealing her sister's MJ locket, which she later stuck into an outlet and received a mild shock.

I finally called it quits around 11:30pm, seeing as I had to get up for work this morning. She ended up watching until 4:30am.

I had nightmares about MJ all night and when I woke up this morning, I had to think for a moment. Was it real? Or did I dream it all? In those foggy moments before I was fully awake, MJ was still alive and the world hadn't flipped over on its ass.

Alas, it wasn't a dream. And the papers this morning proved it. Every major paper was carrying the story front and center. Poor Farrah Fawcett was relegated to a teeny corner on the front page of only two of them.

I guess part of the reason this is so hard for me to wrap my head around is because it's more proof that there is no escaping death. It doesn't matter if you are a famous actress or the biggest pop icon on Earth. One day, I'll join them in sweet oblivion.

It takes me back to last summer when my appendix turned on me and I almost died. I would have died alone in my apartment and who knows how long it would have been before anyone found me. At least FF and MJ had people with them when they passed on.

I guess I'm more afraid of dying alone than just dying period. Which is probably the real reason I'm so desperate to find Hubby #2 (or 3 if need be). It has nothing to do with getting too old to have children, it has everything to do with someone being there as I draw my last breath.

I'm still going to try to figure a way out of this whole stupid mortality thing. :P