On Death and Celebrity

I can't say that I was a fan of Natasha Richardson. In fact, I'm pretty certain I didn't really know who she was, most likely confusing her with Natasha Henstridge. However, I find myself thinking about her death.

I think its just the randomness of her death. It wasn't like she was rocketing down a tree-lined slope way above her skill level. She died from a seemingly innocuous bump on the head on a frigging bunny slope. One minute she was conscious and joking around, just hours later she was unconscious. The randomness of it makes me think far too much about it, and become unnecessarily worried that I might just trip outside my apartment and die.

Obviously its not something that is likely to happen, and the randomness is just something you have to accept. But it still makes me nervous.

The two most recent celebrity deaths I've thought as much about were Heath Ledger and Tim Russert. Ledger's death wasn't a random incident (unless an overdose is considered random), but the fact that a seemingly healthy person not much older than myself died at what seemed the peak of his life hit far too close to home. Russert seemed like such a nice guy, and certainly loved what he did. The fact he couldn't see the result of the 2008 election (in this life at least) just seemed unfair. In addition, he was pretty close to the age of my dad, and made me think about the mortality of both my parents and myself.

I suppose that there might not be any real meaning to why we pay so much attention to the deaths of celebrities. It might just be part of our society's over obsession with famous people. However, I do believe that it also can be a way for people to ruminate on one of the few things that unifies all humans, without having to deal with the nearness of a loved-one dieing.