I went after work tonight to place flowers on Farrah's star on the walk of fame. It's about a 15 minute bike ride from my apartment here in West Hollywood. Usually I never do things like this, but I really was sad when I heard that Farrah lost her battle with cancer. I have a lot of memories of Farrah back in the day, as everyone my age must have. I cannot relate to all the creepy Michael Jackson fans crying crocodile tears and going on like they had some personal connection to him. I appreciate his music and all, but he stopped being musically creative or relevant about 2 decades ago. He spent the last 20 years of his life a grotesque drug addict who constantly whined about his lack of a childhood while going on insanely expensive shopping sprees with various underage boys. He surrounded himself with sycophants and enablers and died a one-dimensional cliche'. It's hard to have any respect for a person like that, so I can't feel all that sad about what was a very slow and painful suicide. Now Farrah, on the other hand, strived her whole career to better herself and rise beyond just being a pretty "jiggle girl" known for her flowing blonde locks and perfect teeth. She pushed herself to be a better actress much like Marilyn Monroe did when she left Hollywood to study at The Actor's Studio in New York. Farrah won over critics with her performances off Broadway in Extremities and then winning an Emmy for her performance in The Burning Bed. You have to respect a person who strives to evolve and improve themselves.
Since I am basically "half-Texan", I have a little pride about this gal from Corpus Christi. She may have been the epitome of the California girl, but Texas never forgot her. Farrah was an ideal and certainly a huge American icon of the 70's, healthy and tan and a smile a mile wide. I moved to Texas when I was 12 from New York. At that time Farrah was just becoming a massive star and I saved my newspaper route money to buy the Farrah Fawcett iconic poster and t-shirt (of the same image). I had gone to Catholic School in New York, but when I moved to Texas I had to go to public school for the first time. All the boys were wearing the Farrah t-shirt and our Principal would suspend any boys who didn't turn their shirts inside-out. I wanted desperately for guys at school to like me so I wore my shirt proudly one day. I made sure the principal saw me wearing it and when he got one look at Farrah's prominent nipples he told me that I had 2 minutes to change my shirt or turn it inside out, or he would suspend me for the day. Of course I refused and got sent home. That day I earned some major street cred. Thank you Farrah!
You fought bravely Miss F.
