Yep! My childhood in music is going up in flames. Today was one of those lazy Sunday morning. You know, the one you wake up at 10:00a.m. and even then wonder where the night went. In my defense, I had a late night. Working. Hehe. I caught that twinkle in your eyes. You were imagining a more exciting night, weren’t you? Moving on… Thank the lord for my smart phone. I’m able to browse for news and happenings while sitting on er… I mean while brushing my teeth. The shocker news was the passing of Whitney Houston. I know what you are thinking. She had it coming! True. Then again, we all have it coming.
First of all, you need to understand I can get quite sentimental. Translation: I get too attached to things and people. I am the girl who has named every electronic gadget, large and small! I am the same one who will hand you a song if you are close enough to me. I am still the same one who sees the world in music. O yes and let us not forget, I am one of those who had a 200 paged exercise book with words of my favorite songs and never missed that ‘Words Of Your Favorite Song’ show on Saturday nights. I remember once mother telling a friend that she is glad I did not get into nursing or doctoring because I would have died of a broken heart by the 5th year. Yes. Heavy attachment. Now where were we?
Aaah yes. The passing of Whitney Houston. She and Michael made Karaoke in my bedroom in front of my mirror with a jolly comb for a microphone wonderful. Yes children. I am that girl. And between moon walking, working the ‘They Don’t Really Care About Us’ dance routine and belting out ‘I Believe The Children Are Our Future’, my childhood was awesome.
Then Michael Jackson passed away. I was crestfallen. Sadness beyond sad. I couldn’t stop playing my collection of his music. And it is large. Including the non-famous ones, some of which never saw the light of music day. Today it was Whitney Houston. I’m sad. You can therefore imagine what my playlist looks like. It’s Not Right, But It’s Ok.
As for all the fun being poked at Whitney, I am not angry. I just think, we all have a right to express ourselves. If bashing a dead singer makes you happy, knock yourself out. We all have our faults, some more visible than others. Good thing yours is not the kind that makes for tabloids
Rest In Peace Whitney Houston. You served my childhood well.