Why Do I Even Care?
Just learned via my handy cnn.com email alert that Anna Nicole Smith has died, of natural causes I'm sure. It could not have had anything to do with what I imagine was a cocktail of Valium, cocaine, white zinfadel, oxycotin and Trimspa. And even as everyone in the entire world could see that she was only alive due to her many handlers, I'm still surprised. We haven't had a celebrity death lately, not since that one old guy died. It seems that everyone is living longer and longer despite the odds. I love Clint Eastwood and I don't want him to die and he's really not that old but then you see his face on the cover of Entertainment Weekly and yes, he is kind of old, by previous decades standards. How old was John Wayne when he died? Fred Astaire? (Please don't think I'm putting ANS in the same category). We know that there are many other teen bopper celebrities who should by all rights be dead--the partiers, the ones with the eating disorders, the kids who were famous and then not and are severly depressed and compensate by going on reality shows. Unfortunatly, ANS will now be the subject of some biopic and be played by another up and coming blond because she died at 39 after a short flurry of years of infamy in the press.