1976. I was 12. As a teenage boy, I owned the poster. Farrah was it. She had it. (as a teenage boy...I'm sure I wanted it). I was captivated. Overtime though, she faded for me. Her appearance in Playboy was not a good thing. It shattered the mystery she once was. It was disappointing.
1982. I was graduating from high school and headed for Indiana University. Over my four years there, I danced away many Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights to the tracks on this album. Again - captivating. Overtime, poor Michael changed and with each new revelation, his persona and his music lost its allure. It just got weird.
Oddly, these icons - once so important to me - became meaningless. Irrelevant to my life. And today, for me to feel anything besides a shallow sadness at their passing, I'd have to dig deep into my memories, stirring up something that might border on sorrow. That is unlikely.
Is there perhaps a parallel to draw? If I consider people who grew up in a church, and think about the captivating hold it may have in childhood or teen years, and then consider that for these people, church became disappointing, distant or weird...it's understandable that church, for them, is meaningless. Irrelevant.
The parallel is no more conclusive than my own empty feelings of the day. Just a thought. What are yours?