First Michael Jackson, then Farrah Fawcett, and then Billy Mays (who achieved celebritydom in his own right.)
While their deaths came as much as a shock to me as the rest of the world, what I was more shocked about is the immediate reaction of New Yorkers - about Michael Jackson. (Poor Fawcett and Mays; their deaths were just completely overshadowed in the media and otherwise.)
The morning after Michael Jackson died, I snapped this photo while waiting for the train (it's an iPhone photo, so sorry about the bad quality. Someone took a black Sharpie and wrote "RIP 'King of Pop' Michael Jackson.")
And nearly everywhere I go, I hear "Billy Jean," "Thriller," or "Beat It," mostly from inside stores or coming from tables set up with Michael Jackson paraphernalia. But even people not trying to hock souvenirs are taking part - people driving by my apartment with the windows down are rocking out to it in their cars, iTunes sales of Michael Jackson songs have skyrocketed, and even Winston, the homeless guy who lives outside my neighboring building, has been blaring it from his stereo for days.
And more recently, I took a photo of this unbelievably amazing work of art. Again, it's a poor-quality iPhone photo, but trust me when I say it was an incredible depiction.
May all three rest in peace.
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