Somebody died I feel sad.

It's nobody I know, knew or would have ever had a chance to meet. Never spoke to them or knew anything about them, their likes, dislikes, hates, peeves, loves, hopes or ambitions.

Didn't know if they liked tea, coffee or juice. Sugar? Milk or cream?

But they died. And I feel sad.

They were world famous (even if only in New Zealand), or they may have been truly world famous. I read about them in the weekly gossip and rumor rags, or the broadsheets, or even perhaps on E!. Maybe they were guest-spotting on a show and paraded their talents. Probably they hung around with other faux-celebrities and caught my attention that way.

But they died. And I feel sad.

Why? Well they sang nicely. Or was it dancing. Singing and Dancing perhaps. Wrote a song, made a million. Perhaps they were a paperback writer. Whatever they were I assisted their fame, spent some money and they got rich/fat/lazy and more famous.

"How could you possibly understand how I feel?"

What is it you feel?

You could put anyone on TV/Radio/ in a Newspaper/Magazine and they'd achieve celebrity status and a fan-club. For some it is fleeting, for some it's their employment, it's what they do - Sing/Dance/Write/Perform.

Just like you do 9-5, just that you're not on TV.

But they died and collectively, or individually, we wring our hands and shake our heads solemnly. As if we had an impact in their lives (mostly only financially beneficial), and that the least we can expect is an invite to the funeral (will it be in TV or in the glamour mags?)

I read that this worship of stardom, this celebrity worship thing replaces, at least in western society, the religious idols we used to admire. We love/hate admire/revile applaud/boo with great abandon anyone that we're told is famous. Even for being famous.

Whats tragic really is that you full well know that in some hospice, in some car, at some place of work, someone is about to die. A lonely death. No less tragic, but less visible, and then less important. No matter that they touched the lives of a few people close to them, in a true and genuine way, not news, not important.

The biggest tragedy is we're all going to die. One day, some way. Even those we admire but have never met, spoken to, seen, etc. But when they die we'll be sad.

Of course.