George Is Dead

The first time I saw his face, it was on a large video screen in a night club in Montreal.
His sweeping hair was backlit, and he was singing “Careless Whisper” – a song sung with such sensuality and wistfulness that I immediately fell in love with it, and him.
It was a song about disloyalty – but it was the music and not the lyrics that I loved.
The song went on to become my favourite anthem – my workout stretching song – my jam.
And then there were all the fun dance songs George Michael released:  Wake Me Up Before You Go Go; I’m Your Man; Faith.
And there were all the beautiful ballads:  Different Corner; Angels and Cowboys; Hand to Mouth.
I even went to one of his concerts when he came to Toronto in the late ’80’s.  He put on a fantastic show – I will never forget it.
And now, he is dead.
At 53.
A year younger than me.
From apparent heart failure.
Possibly a broken heart?
Possibly a will to no longer live?
How can one die on Christmas Day?
In a beautiful home on the river Thames in England, the country where he was born.
The man who made the ’80’s so much fun.
The man who was forced to come out of the closet and admit to the world he was gay at a time when it was not so openly tolerated.
A man who had has a huge share of challenges and disappointments in his life; from lawsuits and illness; from heartbreak to incarceration.
But he was the man who gave us “Wham”.
At a time when the world needed to be carefree and dance!
And now, he is dead.
At the end of a year which also claimed David Bowie.
And Prince.
And Alan Rickman.
I don’t know why the death of George Michael is making me so blue.
I loved David Bowie also; had many of his albums, and saw him in concert too.
But perhaps George touched a nerve.
Touched something cellular in me.
I saw his home in Los Angeles.
And the infamous bathroom which forced his outing.
He apparently had lots of irons in the fire, and projects in the works, and had even just reunited with the love of his life.
But all that didn’t matter, in the end.
In the end, it was between him and God.
And his work here on earth was done.
He had given his all.
We have wonderful memories of him.
And now, that is all that we have.
To him, we owe Carpool Karaoke with James Cordon, because George Michael was the first.  And it was hilarious.
Someone posted a very blurry photo of one of the last believed pictures of George.  He looked like he had put on a lot of weight, and looked almost like Marlon Brando.
He was quite reclusive, it is being said, in his later days.  Sending out for take away food from his home in the village on the Thames.
Hopefully, in the end, he had found some happiness, even though it may not have been enough to keep him on this earth.
Go in peace, George.
You will be missed.

Separator image .