Holy Cow, Ed McManoh, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson? A small part of my childhood is flashing past my eyes!
I enjoyed watching Johnny Carson and Ed McManoh banter back and forth with humor that flew over my head, as I sat next to my dad and watched television with him. I must admit that Ed's death wasn't such a shock, given his age.
Then there is Farrah. I had hoped that Farrah would make it and marry long time love, Ryan O'Neal, and perhaps stay with us for a little longer. I can remember my Barbie had a red bathing suit very similar to the one that Farrah wore in her famous poster. I don't know any little girl from that time (including myself) that didn't want to be an Angel and marry the Bionic Man!
The first song I can remember that Michael sang was a version of "Rockin Robin", I can remember singing it on the bus with friends. Years later, I waited with bated breath for the World Premier Video of "Thriller". I thought it was cool and I did own a pair or two of parachute pants and folders with Jackson on the front that I proudly took to school and used. This of course was in elementary school, by the time I got to middle school he was totally not cool.
It's a strange thing when people who were such a "Big Deal", are taking their last bow and the lights are dimming for the last time on their stage. I don't know about Ed, but Farrah and Michael believed in Jesus and had said so years ago on interviews (yes, I can remember back that far!) I think we will see them when our time comes to join them. Until then, my prayers are with their families and friends.
Holly Michele in Georgia
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Daily Inspiration!!
One of my favorite poems by my favorite General!
THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY by Gen. George S. Patton, Jr.
Through the travail of the ages, Midst the pomp and toil of war, Have I fought and strove and perished Countless times upon this star.
In the form of many people In all panoplies of time Have I seen the luring vision Of the Victory Maid, sublime.
I have battled for fresh mammoth, I have warred for pastures new, I have listed to the whispers When the race trek instinct grew.
I have known the call to battle In each changeless changing shape From the high souled voice of conscience To the beastly lust for rape.
I have sinned and I have suffered, Played the hero and the knave; Fought for belly, shame, or country, And for each have found a grave.
I cannot name my battles For the visions are not clear, Yet, I see the twisted faces And I feel the rending spear.
Perhaps I stabbed our Savior In His sacred helpless side. Yet, I've called His name in blessing When after times I died.
In the dimness of the shadows Where we hairy heathens warred, I can taste in thought the lifeblood; We used teeth before the sword.
While in later clearer vision I can sense the coppery sweat, Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.
Hear the rattle of the harness Where the Persian darts bounced clear, See their chariots wheel in panic From the Hoplite's leveled spear.
See the goal grow monthly longer, Reaching for the walls of Tyre. Hear the crash of tons of granite, Smell the quenchless eastern fire.
Still more clearly as a Roman, Can I see the Legion close, As our third rank moved in forward And the short sword found our foes.
Once again I feel the anguish Of that blistering treeless plain When the Parthian showered death bolts, And our discipline was in vain.
I remember all the suffering Of those arrows in my neck. Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage As I died upon my back.
Once again I smell the heat sparks When my Flemish plate gave way And the lance ripped through my entrails As on Crecy's field I lay.
In the windless, blinding stillness Of the glittering tropic sea I can see the bubbles rising Where we set the captives free.
Midst the spume of half a tempest I have heard the bulwarks go When the crashing, point blank round shot Sent destruction to our foe.
I have fought with gun and cutlass On the red and slippery deck With all Hell aflame within me And a rope around my neck.
And still later as a General Have I galloped with Murat When we laughed at death and numbers Trusting in the Emperor's Star.
Till at last our star faded, And we shouted to our doom Where the sunken road of Ohein Closed us in it's quivering gloom.
So but now with Tanks a'clatter Have I waddled on the foe Belching death at twenty paces, By the star shell's ghastly glow.
So as through a glass, and darkly The age long strife I see Where I fought in many guises, Many names, but always me.
And I see not in my blindness What the objects were I wrought, But as God rules o'er our bickerings It was through His will I fought.
So forever in the future, Shall I battle as of yore, Dying to be born a fighter, But to die again, once more.
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