I’m sorry I have not posted recently. I was consumed with the fear that my own death would be usurped by the death of someone more famous than me. And recently there has been a fair amount of famous dying occurring.
I was born the day before Christmas. My entry into this world was overshadowed quite heavily by someone substantially more famous than me. Every year I try to pretend I can hold my own, but You Know Who always comes with the promise of a day with gifts and gammon for everyone, and I’m put back in the shadows of the Christmas tree. So, because I’m competitive, I’m hoping for a better exit.
Don’t worry – I know how much you love this smart, witty and thigh-slapping funny blog – I’m very well and have no immediate plans to leave this life. In fact it’s quite the opposite. I’m feeling positively alive with the idea of getting more famous than mega blogger “The Bloggess” or Gwyneth Paltrow and her “Goopers,” so that when I do in fact die, I am the most famous person dying. You don’t get a lot of shots at this stuff. Your big moments are really your birth, hitting legal drinking age, maybe a wedding, likely a divorce, and then your demise. You have to make sure you’re doing these things well folks.
Let’s explore this more.
January 10th saw the passing of the great David Bowie, aged 69 years old. A brilliant man who achieved the very highest levels of artistry, cocaine taking, and elegance. His passing was too soon. The world is still mourning. Just turn on the radio and see if you can find a Taylor Swift song to cheer you up, and you will land up crying to “Starman” again.
January 14th saw the passing of the great thespian, Alan Rickman. How did that go, reaction-wise? I’ll tell you because Alan can’t, bless him. It went not so great. I got a BBC news alert on my phone informing me of the news with a short obituary, but the coffee shop chatter went as follows:
Barista: “Did you hear the guy from Harry Potter also died, also aged 69?”
Customer: “Dumbledore?”
Barista: “No, not him the other guy. Freaky right?”
Customer: “Do you have Stevia?”
Despite Rickman having made over thirty amazing films and appearing in countless theater productions, his death had an “also” in front of it. As though he was following a trend he just couldn’t help but get into. Or if you felt like an alternative to “also” mourning Bowie you had another, slightly more obscure British choice, but obviously Bowie’s death was the main stage event.
See my point? The only thing worse than dying is dying when someone mega famous does. As if death isn’t unfortunate enough already.
This “also” happened to The Eagles founding member Glenn Frey. When he sadly passed on to the big Hotel California in the sky this week, “Desperadoes” got sandwiched between David Bowie medleys. He had many more songs than that, but he died around Bowie time so his tequila sunrise faded into obscurity. The only thing worse….
So, all this brought on my paranoia. I actually have this fear whenever I’m catching a flight in LA, and there are celebs on board too. I always sweat back there in economy thinking about the headline if the tin bird goes down, “WILL ARNETT AND OTHERS CRASH.” I really, really hate being relegated to “others” status. But that’s what I would be. Someone who was “also” on board. Dead gen pop. I mean, if Alan Rickman and Glen Fry were relegated to B list celebrities posthumously on the red carpet leading up to the pearly gates, I don’t stand a hope of even getting into the party. Right now I would be standing outside hoping I still have a way with bouncers and winking at St Peter. Or I’d be texting other dead people who are already behind the gates to see if I couldn’t somehow score a VIP bracelet so I don’t have to wait in line. Mortifying.
As with any great fear I’m working on it though. And I’d encourage you to do it with me. We should all resolve to not be “others”. I’m obviously going to keep writing this blog to achieve my greatness. And I also have an unsound but brilliant business plan which involves tearing up all the inspirational “Live Today like its the Best day Ever!!” type motivational posters in the world, and replacing them with posters that say, “Live like you might die on the same day as Kim Kardashian”. There’s a challenge. They’d be very nicely designed and wouldn’t have a sunset or Kim Kardashian on, but I think the stern tone is what we all need if we plan on coming out on top before we go six feet under.
Truth is, there is no real winner here, but we should at least all aim to exit better than when we entered, right? And try to leave greatness behind, of whatever kind. Just like (in order of their passing) David, Alan and Glenn. Thank you, and rest in peace, gentlemen.
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