Beat it? Sadly, no.

It's impossible to beat it. As Hank Williams sang: No matter how I struggle and strive, I’ll never get out of this world alive.

Two icons died today. One was a real shock. One was expected. But, in both cases, fame took a heavy toll long before the heart attack or the anal cancer. Poor Michael. Poor Farrah. I hope that in between the very public bad times, they had some private good times.

To commemorate, we listened to our vinyl copies of Off the Wall and Thriller. I danced. Leslie watched me dance. He was still so attractive when he made those albums. He only had a little surgery by the time Thriller was released. Kids that I cared about loved him so much. (And, yes, he loved kids - I am not trying to be cute or condemn him here, trust me.) Fame is such an attractive trap.

We watched the pilot of Charlie’s Angels, too. That sucked. But, TV did then – not her fault. She had a nice smile. Too much hair. Not my type. I liked Kate Jackson. But, still - I wish her life had been easier.

Anyway, so long to both of you.