Bring On the Hate Mail, I Don't Understand Worshipping Whitney Houston

Ah yes, Valentine’s Day.  The holiday of Godiva Chocolate and St. Hallmark.  Also? It seems I’ve been flipping off the jewelry store commercials for fucking ever people.  Yes, it’s the little things that give me great joy.  After today though we are finally through the Single Person’s Holiday Hell Gauntlet and we can get on to preparing for a real holiday… St. Patrick’s Day! Bring on the margaritas! Last year I celebrated Suck It! Mademoiselle Hautemess style. The year before that I was blown away when I received a gorgeous ring from Brian.  This year?  It’s just another day.  And that is all I’m going to say on the subject.  Oh, and go read Adam’s post today.  He totally nailed it.  </end subject>.

It seems there’s been quite a bit going on while I was lost in my self-absorbed navel gazing.

There are a lot of things in this world that I just don’t understand.  Quantum physics, Nicki Minaj, and the worshipping of Whitney Houston.  Yes, I am prepared for a fuckton of hate mail and backlash, but hear me out first.

Whitney Houston, niece of Dionne Warwick, both women blessed with voices bigger and more powerful than they themselves.  Whitney rocked the 80’s.  Owned them.  Made them her bitch.  And then, like any other good girl meets bad boy love story, she met, fell in love, and married Bobby Brown and it was all downhill from there.  The drugs, the violence, the abuse, the lifestyle, the interviews, the denials, the reality television show.  It was hard for us to watch the good girl try and save and change the bad boy only to lose herself in the fight.  Even after she divorced Bobby it was still difficult to separate herself from him and the life they had lived together.  So, when the news started to come across the web that Whitney Houston had died, everyone’s first thought was drugs.

The Grammys were the next night, and Whitney was on the lips of everyone there.  LL Cool J opened with a short but heartfelt prayer for Whitney and her loved ones.  Jennifer Hudson performed an emotional hauntingly beautiful tribute to Whitney.  Everyone remembered her golden voice.  And brushed the rest of her legacy under the rug, ignoring the elephant in the room.  Almost as if singing her praises loud enough often enough replaying her performances at every possible opportunity would somehow make the ugly side of her life somehow less ugly or just disappear.

Whitney was blessed with a talent few will ever have.  And she was cursed with an addiction she couldn’t beat.  I am not going to argue addiction: Choice or disease.  She had problems, she had demons, she had battles of her own to fight.  We all do.  I am not throwing stones. In Whitney’s own words, “I’m nobody’s angel”. But here’s my issue with the way Whitney is being immortalized; she was given a gift, a great talent, but what did she give back?

I find it hard to stomach the praise and worship that is being offered up to/for/about (What word do I use here?) Whitney considering the life she lived and the legacy she will leave behind.  She will always be remembered for “I Will Always Love You”, “The Bodyguard” and “Crack is Wack”.  She was given a gift, and she used it to entertain us. And we gave her adulations, love, awards, fame, and she squandered it.

The world has lost a great musical talent, but I have to think we lost it years ago. We have finally lost the hope that someday she would find happiness and sobriety and her talent would one day ring out for all the world to hear yet again.  Whitney, I truly hope you have found the love and joy and peace that eluded you in life.