Ironic that just last night I wrote about my fantasy of singing with a band— 15 hours later comes the death of Mary Travers. I hate the idea of posting about another celebrity death, yet I can’t ignore it—no one meant music to me more than Peter, Paul and Mary—-whose songs run through my entire life, through all our lives, and the lives of our children.
Her death somehow represents the end of something precious and innocent—a feeling I’ve had a lot lately, when practically every news cycle marked the loss of another icon. In their own ways and in their own fields, each of them represented something that may never come again.
Like the fresh-scrubbed clean-cut California girl whose dazzling smile adorned the wall of every boy I knew—could any poster ever sweep the country like that again?
In today’s world of reality TV, where a star is born every minute and fades just as fast…. when the music business has been completely transformed, it’s likely the world will never again see an enduring entertainer like Michael Jackson.
Nor does it seem remotely possible that a TV anchorman could ever again anchor the hearts and minds of Americans as the moral center of the country…. the most trusted man in America.
And then Teddy. I can’t imagine anything comparable to the family legacy of hope and possibility, to the torch the Kennedys ignited and passed from each fallen son….that finally fell to the only survivor.
So maybe I’m sentimental…(or just old)…. But as the summer of 2009 fades into fall, it feels like the end of an era.
I’m sure I’ll be more upbeat in my next post—right now I’m wallowing in Peter Paul and Mary music.