I didn’t watch Whitney Houston’s funeral, I’m sorry to rain on anyone’s parade but parade really is the operative word….. to me it was going to be a media circus and I’m a little long in the tooth for that. I made my living from working with the media but they’re still allowed to piss me off at times. Media crazed events have the opposite effect on me, I stay away. But of course today we are conditioned to live in that ‘you can never stay away’ zone. Everything is forced on you, if you don’t want to listen you are told anyway.
I didn’t watch the funeral but I felt I was there.
Let’ s backtrack a little. In the day my ex wife Nancy calls me and asks me what I think Kevin Costner will say at the funeral and will I be watching it. ‘I’m not interested and no,’ I offer by way of an answer, secretly hoping I can discuss the predicted rain and should I dare risk a bike ride. The day goes by and, as expected the televised funeral happens. Everybody in the world has seen it except me. Last night I go out and have a really nice evening, none of which involved talking about Whitney Houston. You know the one, a few beers and normal chat…..well maybe not because heard at the bar and in the restaurant people were talking about the funeral. I come home and, being of that acceptable age I was ready to nod off. I’ll just check Facebook, I thought and see if anyone has posted any cool music videos, had some funny episodes of life etc.
Bad move. I may not have seen any news coverage, watched any television but social networking takes no prisoners. I now know more than I ever needed to know about the funeral. I went to bed later than expected after engaging in a few back and forth comments on my friend Richard’s post about…….
Fifty three posts later I did finally climb in to bed.
I wake up this morning at 4.10am, my friend Sally sends me an instant message, ‘Are you going to write a blog about Whitney’s funeral?’ She tells me stuff I don’t need to know, she prompts a reaction. More about the media and social networking than anything about who/what Whitney Houston meant. I mean this must be the most blogged subject since… yesterdays blogs about Whitney. So after 45 minutes back and forth I get an email from my ex Liz in the UK. Subject: ‘Did I watch Whitney Houston’s funeral.’ I get a note from Sally in Portugal again. By now I am cyber swearing at Liz as she is telling me about the funeral, the one I didn’t see, didn’t want to see and now feel I was attended. She uses the word, ‘real.’ She felt it was very real. I’m going slightly mad, I react , I send another note. I’m talking about my observations, from a distance but still feeling like I was at the church in New Jersey.
I pick up my cell, I frantically text my dear friend Annie in Orlando. I’m screaming at her to call me. She responds instantly, I think she feels I was about to commit a crime. Worse I share my feelings why I’m madder than she even thinks I am and about how I have been up for four hours, had an agenda, a bunch of things to do and I why I am way behind schedule because everybody iOS talking to me about Whitney Houston. So we talk about Whitney’s Houston’s funeral and I become further behind schedule.
And now I’m writing a blog about the last twelve hours and the only thing I am not discussing is the fact I did not dream about Whitney Houston’s funeral cos I didn’t watch it even though I was there…..
Forgive me, I have some things to do but tomorrow is another day. I have some observations and some comments I’d like to share but I really need to sit down and then get maybe some work done. Facebook today we are not friends. People, don’t call me, text me or e-mail me, it could get ugly. And if you come round please understand if I scream, jump on top of you and beat you to the ground before you even your mouth. I know what you want.
And I wasn’t interested but curiosity killed this cat.
