Rest in peace, Whitney Houston.
When my Luddite uncle finally bought a cassette tape player back in 1985, Whitney Houston was the first tape he purchased.
Moving right along … it was while listening to “Saving All My Love” that I first really began to understand unrequited love and loss.
This isn’t about a post about memorializing celebrities, burnouts, and addicts. It isn’t even about fame and addiction. It notes the talent and beauty of one amazingly talented female musician, and her songs and videos that were so much a part of our growing up. We had our Depeche Mode, Madonna, Thomas Dolby, Wham! and all the pop and New Wave you can(not) handle, but we had Whitney Houston and it made all the difference.
Yet, it’s sad how some of the same folks who don’t care for Whitney Houston’s downward spiral and untimely death because they “don’t mourn junkies” consider a trip to Graceland a must-do. Elvis sank and died in a very similar fashion, you know.
