Some more thoughts on Whitney Houston’s passing.
You may want to insulate yourself from the news coverage. If you don’t, you’re likely to hear irrelevant, yet hurtful remarks like these:
Eric Bolling, Fox News
“Congresswoman, you saw what happened to Whitney Houston,” he said. “Step away from the crack pipe, step away from the Xanax, step away from the Lorazepam because it’s going to get you in trouble.” (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/02/16/eric-bolling-maxine-waters-crack-pipe-fox-news_n_1281540.html)
And the endless, pointless debates about how she died (yet unknown) and who’s to blame, blame, blame.
Reflecting on her life, I wish that Ms. Houston had had some hobbies and some more real friends. Someone mentioned that she liked to vacuum. What if she’d quilted, or swam or volunteered?
I thought about the great jazz songstress Nancy Wilson playing bridge with friends. Hearing that Ms. Houston was “wandering aimlessly” through the hotel, if indeed that was the case, reminded me of O.J. Simpson driving Kato Kaelin, a young wannabe to McDonald’s in a Bentley. All that money, all that world exposure and so much emptiness.