Today I took my daughter, who was not feeling well, to the Urgent Care facility in Rye. There is something about a doctor’s waiting room that gives you pause. Most of the time when I am in there sick I don’t notice much. I am like everyone else; a little impatient, I want to get well.
However, today I was quite alert and noticed all kinds of people looking a bit miserable and out of sorts, wanting to be healed. In contrast to this motley group there were a lot of magazines in the office about the rich and the beautiful celebrities who seem so much healthier than these folks. So, I open up a copy of “People” magazine to discover Paul McCartney waving to a crowd with his fly open. And then I see Bill Clinton stepping in gum, discover that Lindsay Lohan feels so alone amid fears that she might hurt herself, read about Madonna experiencing heartbreak and devastation because she can’t adopt another child from Malawi, and Jennifer Aniston who cannot seem to find a husband after Brad Pitt.
Most interesting to me, though, is the picture of Farrah Fawcett of whom I used to have a poster over my bed in college. She was my favorite angel in “Charlie’s Angels”, and, I know, was the inspiration of fantasies for millions of men (and women) around the world. Now I see her in a wheelchair, down to 89 pounds, wrapped up with a wool cap over her head in Germany, trying to be treated for cancer that has spread to her liver. Could this be a bad dream, or does sickness, old age, and tragedy come to all of us, even the beautiful and famous?
What makes it all insane is that Farrah Fawcett is now being filmed on her deathbed, turning her struggle with cancer into a documentary. Maybe it’s just me, and it may sound unkind in this situation, but is this a little narcissistic or what? It reminds me of the great old movie “Sunset Boulevard”, where an over-the-hill actress refuses to let go of stardom and the camera as she says, “I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. Demille.” ( Watch it on YouTube ).
I may be old-fashioned, but shouldn’t dying be a little bit more private? It doesn’t need to be made into reality TV, it is already real enough.
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