I can’t believe Whitney Houston has died.
It’s not like we were personal friends or anything, but she played a significant role in molding my adolescent musical tastes.
The Bodyguard rocked my world. The Preacher’s Wife is still a holiday favorite for me.
Now I know Ms. Whitney has her struggles, but I still loved her. She represents a beautiful time of the 80s with big hair, leg warmers and a general feeling of goodwill toward the world and the future.
In fact, one of my absolutely feel-good moments is to sing, “I Will Always Love You” in the car at the top of my lungs. I don’t mean just half-heartedly… at the TOP OF MY LUNGS.
When you hit the “…and I…ey-yi-ey-yi… will always love you-oo-ooo-ooo-ooo-Eye-ey-yi…”, well, the only appropriate way to sing that part is to open your mouth so wide your jaw threatens to become unhinged. Belt that sucker out; let the uvula, the strange little hanging thing at the back of your throat, dangle and sway with the force of your passion!
I love that song. I loved it when I heard it the first time via Dolly Parton and the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. It’s just good stuff.
And now, I’m going to have to accept Ms. Whitney will never sing it live again. Another tie to the 80s has severed.
I’ll miss that.