Las Vegas Boulevard
Sometimes I wonder about what I’m doing here. Sometimes I get carried away to very personal insights, where afterwards I get scared of my own courage and sometimes I sit on the 20th floor of a hotel and look at Las Vegas Boulevard while writing and can not believe I’m there because of my writing squat. Well and sometimes you get awake at an inappropriate time on a Sunday morning, actually just want to scurry to the toilet – and take a quick look at his Facebook stream. There you can see that decidedly too much Whitney Houston content populates the timeline.
People who independently post the videos of a particular artist have never been a good sign – ask Michael Jackson and Amy Winehouse. And so it is in this case, as a quick glance at the daily press shows: Whitney Houston has died at 48 years, she was found in a hotel room in Beverly Hills. It is said that at the present time, there is no indication that her death was caused by drugs, but history has the flaky connotation of systematically ruining her body for so many years. Personally, Amy Winehouse comes directly back in my head because she also had such a great voice and also ruined herself. And it comes to mind Michael Jackson – and that feels much worse.
How so? Because it seems Whitney, like Michael, has been with me all my life. I do not mean that I’ve been listening to her stuff all the time, it was not like that. But as with Michael Jackson, she was already a world star in my teenage years and has been making headlines over the years with both her music and her escapades. As with Jackson, I only heard from her in recent years when she either caused another scandal or wanted to start a comeback attempt again.
I was 14 when I saw her for the first time on a German television show called “Peters Pop Show” – a program comparable to “The Dome” – just starring stars. There was a very cute girl in her early 20s, which had her first No.1 hit in her baggage and truly blew away all her audiences with her voice. These things come to mind in the face of such a death message, as well as their songs like “One moment in time” or “I wanna dance with somebody”. Whole host of casting participants of X-Factor over DSDS to super talent still try – mostly in vain – in their big hits, probably with a reason why I almost never felt the urge to pull their songs again.
I also do not pretend to have been a big fan of their music, but at least I heard their first album a lot back then – just in 1985 – and songs like “all at once” still appeal to me today. That’s probably why I like the story, and why I write here on Sunday still Sunday – after watching Whitney clips on YouTube for half an hour – writing these lines: these golden times have come for me again Lost face. Freddie Mercury, Patrick Swayze, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston: The Eighties are slowly dying under my ass and it has been affecting me ever since my mother’s death – even in the event that I have not been with an artist for a long time have.
Meanwhile, more than 30 years have passed since I listened at home to the radio of the music, which has shaped my life and presumably, each of these death messages is a hint that for me the impact slowly approaching. That leaves me – even now – a little stunned and deprives me of the hope that I can sleep on this Sunday morning after writing this article just another fast, one or two hours.