Whitney Houston died and that’s a bummer. But not anymore of a bummer than the fact that other people I don’t know have died this week. I don’t get jazzed when people die, but I also don’t get clinically depressed when a person that I have never talked to, been near, or physically affected anything that has ever affected anything that has affected her (and likewise) dies. I don’t give a shit about Whitney Houston anymore that I give a shit about the person that lives three lots north of your mother’s childhood home. Don’t know them (unless I do). Don’t really care (then I do).
I understand that it sucks for everyone who knew the person that lived three lots north of your mother’s childhood home and I feel bad for that. For the living people. But the fact that the person I don’t know is dead fails to influence me emotionally in any major way. This is one of the reasons I think everyone freaking out about Whitney Houston’s death is a little ridiculous.