Yesterday was, I think, one of the more surreal news days in recent memory.

It starts off with yet another politician being unfaithful to their spouse. Now, granted, I realize the "real" problem here was that he left his post to fly off to Argentina, but I do have to say I always feel a little - disappointment, maybe? - when I hear of this.

I don't know, I realize this is very much outside looking in, but I feel like - if I had someone who loved me (I presume the man's wife loved him?) and had spent whatever portion of my life with me, I'd not want to hurt them in that way.

I don't know. I realize life is complex and everyone carries a heavy burden of their own, but when I look at people doing this kind of thing, I feel kind of like when I was a little kid and a friend of mine had some REALLY COOL THING that I didn't have and he or she broke it, or left it out in the rain, or somehow didn't take care of it.

And then the two celebrity deaths. I admit, I had kind of "forgotten" about Farrah Fawcett until I saw news of her death. I didn't really follow her career all that much - I may have seen a few episodes of "Charlie's Angels" in re-runs (though during its first run, there were other things I would have been interested in on the television). But she seemed like she was a nice lady, and she was certainly beautiful (but not beautiful in that "I'm better than you because I'm prettier" sense that some attractive women have). And she had been sick. And in a way, you almost feel a little relief on behalf of the person: well, at least they're not in pain any more.

And then the real surreal news of the day. I'm not going to comment on Jackson's life, on what happened in the 90s and the 00s, the trial, any of that. For one thing, I don't understand it. For another, I was sort of raised that you didn't spit on a person's grave.

I remember Jackson best from the mid-80s - before everything started to go kind of pear-shaped for him. When he was really popular - crazy popular. People who weren't born yet probably don't realize the level of popularity. EVERYONE knew who he was. EVERYONE. And, though I admit I was a music snob in those days (more than I am now; it was part and parcel as trying to define myself as "different" and "special" in high school to insist that I only EVER listened to "serious" music), his music was catchy and fun. "Billie Jean" probably was my favorite.

(And even before that, his Motown work: some of it really beautiful - I do love "I'll be there" - and some of it irresistibly catchy and enough to make me get up and dance (well, at least, if I'm alone in the room when it comes on).

But yeah, later on he was pretty much the definition of "a cry for help." What happened to him made me more sad than anything: again, here was someone with real talent (again, something I don't have) and who was adored by millions. And whatever demons he had, whatever temptations he faced - they pretty much ruined his life. And yeah, yeah, all the classic explanations: he was probably abused as a child, fame corrupts, all of that. But still, up until yesterday, whenever I heard his name in the news, I admit I cringed a little bit in preparation for what I might hear.

I will say that while I feel kind of sad about his death - and really, more sad about all the stuff that came out in the news about him over the past 15 years or so, I expect this will lead to another Princess-Diana type situation for a lot of people. And perhaps it's an emotional failing in me, a way that I'm a little bit cold, but I don't quite get the extended mourning over someone you did not know. My reaction to the death was to go, "Wow, that's sad - and unexpected" and then move on. I don't quite get the extended tears and sadness for someone you never knew. I had enough losses of people (and one cat) that I knew well and cared a lot about in the past year to not feel like shedding any tears for someone I never knew, someone who was at the most on the edges of my consciousness. But to each his own, I guess: maybe some people need that.

(And now I feel kind of bad to realize that I felt worse about the death of my parents' cat than I did about another human being, but well - those you know well are closest to you, I guess)

Oh, and in other, very personal news:

The Oklahoma Blood Institute will not accept your blood if you have an active poison ivy infection. I walked in, explained to the phlebotomist, showed her my arms, and she shook her head sadly. I presume it's because there are antibodies or something in your blood that make it unsafe for a person in weakened health to accept. Oh well. Perhaps there will be another drive here in town in another couple weeks when it's cleared up.