Barbara Billingsely and Benoit Mandelbrot

OK -- I have decided to get back in the game. My hiatus started when I missed the Steinbrenner death and I just couldn't bring myself to look at another obituary. It's not that I was sad about George Steinbrenner. I just got burned out on this whole thing.

But Barbara Billingsely deserves this. I had the great privilege of being alive when "leave it to Beaver" reruns were still in rotation. She's the ultimate Mom persona. Doesn't really exist, but it sure would be great if she did.

My children can't seem to sit through anything black and white for more than five minutes, which is a darn shame. I blame it on all the amazing colors available in the world, best portrayed through Benoit Mandelbrot's fractals.

Yes, it's equally a sad day for mathematicians around the world, as old Benoit (I never knew is first name until today) died from pancreatic cancer. For nearly seven decades Mandelbrot worked with dozens of scientists and made contributions in fields such as geology, medicine, cosmology and engineering. He used fractal geometry to explain how galaxies are grouped, how the price of cereals or how the mammalian brain is multiplied as it grows. Pretty powerful stuff, and it looks terrific on a T-shirt!

Dennis, Rue, Kazuo, and John

Gary Coleman took everything I could give. Being a worldwide authority on the topic, I would have to say the Gary Coleman - Dennis Hopper double whammy was probably the biggest since Farrah and Michael did their strange duet last summer. It's been hard for me to shake the sad and bizarre life that Gary made for himself. And the saddest part is that all that will ever come of this is a lame-o TV movie. I wish I had the wherewithal to pull together an epic film on the life of Gary Coleman, but I just don't think there would be much interest.

Dennis Hopper. That's an easy one. For me, his role as Frank Booth in Blue Velvet is all I need. If you haven't seen it, rent the movie. The "Pabst Blue Ribbon" line was something that Thelton and I used to say to each other back in the day. Thelton and I lived in an apartment complex known as "The Gathering." It was quite popular, but never my cup of tea, even though I lived there. We had two other roommates and the chemistry was never terrific. My Datsun was demolished there. Not by an accident. But by a mob of students. I had been away in New York for a good month, and the car was a piece of shit, but it certainly worked. So, I get back from an extended vacation in NY, and the car was all fucked up by who knows who at a wild party. Windows smashed. Car up on the curve. I like to think that perhaps Frank Booth was the ringleader of the festivities.

Rue Mcclanahan. I am somewhat proud to say that this is my second "Golden Girl" in the history of Celebituary. As I recall, of all the Golden Girls, she had the most sex appeal. There were probably some Betty White fans out there (and still are), but for my money Rue was the hottest Golden Girl. Who's with me on that?

Kazuo Ohno. If you don't know him, Google him. My first significant girlfriend, Alyson was a dance major, and through her I developed an interest in modern dance. I was really bummed that I let Merce Cunningham pass me by due to a busy calendar.  So, I really don't have a meaningful Kazuo Ohno memory, but I do have a lot of Florida State Dance Department memories. It was an awesome scene. And, one that I regret I never got more involved in. Maybe one of my kids will be a dance major. But, Kaz, Merce...here's to you.

And last but certainly not least, ...John Wooden. Well there is some substance, huh. See for me, it's pretty straightforward. John Wooden was always this old guy sitting in the stands. And the announcers would speak of him in glowing terms. So, in other words, my entire frame of reference with John W. revolves around his legendary status. I never saw the man coach. I never watched him in a post game interview. I never  saw him in the background pacing the sidelines while the Bruins played.

For all I know, everyone could be making it all up.

Of course, they aren't. But all I am saying is that I only know stories of his greatness. Now, contrast that with Yogi Berra, who has been more or less retired throughout my conscious lifetime. He's not just this guy in the stands. He's vital. No disrespect, Wooden.

Jose, Paul, Art, Pat, and Gary

What a week, really. For me, the multiple jobs thing is starting to take its toll. Don't get me wrong, business is good. Great, actually. I'm just a tad over-committed. My phone rings all the time. I'm either working late, "sleep working," where I lay on the couch laptop open and intermittently peck away between naps, or I wake up at 4 and crank out a deck or whatever. I love what I do. Really. I just need a small vacation.

So I feel bad. I sat on the Jose Lima death until it was no longer relevant. Then Paul Gray of Slipknot kicks it and I'm thinking - well that would be a nice two-fer, but I had too much work work. Then Linkletter came across and it was just getting ridiculous. Pat Stevens would have broken the bank, were it not for Gary Coleman on the same day.

I have mixed feelings about putting Gary Coleman in a "class." He really deserves his own Cel-o-bit. But, it's just how the week went down. To do a Gary Coleman feature would be to ignore all these other cats, and it just ain't right, ya know?

So, what about Lima? Colorful guy. Dominant on the mound every now and then. I have been a member of the East Norwalk Diamond Association fantasy baseball league since 2001, and I went and researched his AL years to try to see if I ever "owned" him. Alas, I did not.

Paul Gray? Here's the thing about Paul. I never knew the first thing about him until the day he died. Have I been a fan of Slipknot? Positively -- frankly since the beginning. And, while I always knew they had a bassist (who doesn't?), I never knew the dude's name. 

So, check this out. I'm in a "nice" Ford Taurus on the way to Covington, GA. They comped me XM Radio. So, I fiddled around -- and low and behold I see the words "Paul Gray Guest DJ" on one of the channels. Turns out, Mr. Green did a spot as a guest metal DJ back in 2006, and they had the recording. The main thing I learned about Paul was that he likes to say "Fuckin'" a lot, and he happened to have a pretty serious lisp. So, there you go. As for the set, it was a lot of fun. He played some MegaDeth, some Judas Priest, oh, and some Slipknot. The Slipknot song was "Metabolic" from the Iowa album and Paul made a joke about how nobody plays it, so it was his ASCAP gift to himself and the bandmates. So, if you want to salute Paul Green over the Memorial Day holiday, play Metabolic for him.

I have to say, for me Art Linkletter really wasn't all that relevant to me. Different generation. I hate to give the guy short shrift, but he really doesn't mean a whole lot to me next to erratic pitchers, metal bassists, and voice talent.

Enter Pat Stevens. Not the one you're thinking of. This woman was the voice of Velma, among other things. And for being the voice of Velma and coining the phrase "Jinkies," you get your own star on my perverse walk of fame. I don't have a specific Velma recollection, other than realizing at an early age that she was decidedly not attractive. Unlike Gilligin's Island and its "Ginger / Marianne" debate -- there is no such thing in Scooby Doo land. It's all Daphne, and Velma is far down the list.

So that brings us to the headliner, the showstopper. The icon of tragic child stars. The one and the only Gary Coleman.

I just lost thirty minutes of my life trying to track down the Different Strokes promos that introduced the world to Gary Coleman. They were mock press conferences with Gary coming off as really smart and beyond his years. If someone finds them, let me know.

Of all the seventies sitcoms, Different Strokes seems to be encircled with the most mythology. There's the whole "Curse" thing what with the tragic lives of Gary, Dana, and Todd. I believe the curse is so sticky because the tragic arc of these individuals is so radically different than the characters they portrayed. They were all so damn cute, how could they possibly be on drugs, prostitute themselves, steal things. It was all so dissonant.

In particular, Gary Coleman has made a career out of being a pathetic has-been. Corey Haim has nothing on Gary Coleman.

I actually remember the beginnings of Gary as "famous for being famous." One of my friends from the Modem Media San Francisco office, had to be Cloud, called me and said "you'll never guess who is in our office repping a Web site....Gary Coleman."

The walls of my innocent boobtube childhood were shattered. Arnold Jackson was not supposed to be at the Modem San Fran office. He was supposed to be cute and on my television. It was the end of my innocence. I really never got used to Gary as the guy just trying to make it, trading off his childhood celebrity.

Wow, that was well over ten years ago, and Gary has been at it ever since. Several lame promotional gigs, notorious media blow-ups, even an appearance on Divorce Court. This was the tragic Gary we all know and love today.

Even though I trade in this business, for my money I'll take little Gary, er...rather child Gary. Like Art Linkletter, I don't have much use for Gary Coleman 2.

Ronnie James Dio

After all these 2fers and 3fers, it's refreshing just to settle down and do a nice, single obit. I decided to steer clear of the whole lacrosse thing. I'm not really sure how I possibly have any right to take the high ground, but sometimes it just doesn't feel right, ya know?

But Dio is easy. Dio is familiar. Dio is relevant.

I came to Black Sabbath after the Ozzy years, and I remember buying "Mob Rules" probably at K-Mart, but I forget. It was a long time ago. For me, the Dio-led Sabbath was the only Sabbath I knew. I even bought the live album. That was an album cover I spent a good deal of time with. They decided to depict a cast of characters that represented classic Sabbath songs. "Paranoid." "War Pigs." "Children of the Sea." It's one of the things that I miss about album art. The good ones always gave you something to sink your teeth into.

But, for me, as much as I enjoyed the Sabbath work, it was really the second Dio album, "The Last in Line," that resonated with me. The title track is probably one of my favorite metal songs, and a great example of utilizing dynamics to great effect. The video was most excellent too. At least I thought so. I watched it again, and it hasn't really held up well. The video arcade shots are downright embarrassing. Well, what are you gonna do? It was the eighties after all.

Enjoy the campiness that is "The Last in Line" video. And, remember, if you ever end up in a bizarro underworld, be sure to pull the plastic tubing out of the main bad guy's neck.

Rest in peace, Dio.

Lynn Redgrave, Lena Horne, and Phil Pagano

An old friend, and contributor to this blog, Peter Knierim has always been a big follower of the whole "celebrities die in batches of three" concept. While sometimes this is eerily accurate, it really depends on how you look at it.

Now that I am a worldwide authority on such matters, I can say that if I wanted to, there are at least three interesting people I could write about each day. So, really it's just the lens that you assign to it. Such was the case with this new "triple" which only could be manufactured by someone like me.

I had been meaning to "do" Lynn Redgrave for, well over a week now. But I just kept putting it off. There's a risk associated with that, as sooner or later the death becomes irrelevant, which is a real pity.

But then Lena Horne really forced my hand. I couldn't NOT do Lena, but I still had the backlog of Lynn Redgrave. Oh, and I am as busy as ever. In fact, I am seriously pushing a deadline by taking the time to write this. What are you supposed to say to your customer?

"I'm sorry I don't have that copy deck as promised, but, in case you missed it, Lena Horne died."

It just doesn't hold water. So, I will get all "meta" with these folks and fold three separate lives and stories together into one tight, photo-filled entry and get back to bread winning.

Being into death, celebrity death, and irony how could I possibly ignore Phil Pagano's passing? And interweaving his demise with two female icons of stage and music, well that was just even weirder.

For those who don't know Phil, he was the allegedly corrupt Chicago Metra director who went and threw himself in front of one of his trains on Friday.

I used to work in East Norwalk, CT right by the train station there and we had a similar thing happen a couple years back.

A recently fired Fairfield guy did the same thing. Huge commotion. Big mess. The whole event was unforgettable and quite disturbing. No, I didn't see it happen. In fact, I was out-to-lunch and came back to the office only to see the whole aftermath. I really felt bad for the gentleman and his family. What a spectacular way to go! You have to like attention, at least a little bit, to put yourself in that situation. Or, maybe it's just efficacy. A speeding train will most certainly do the trick. Or convenience. In many urban / suburban markets, trains are very available.

Thinking too much about it, just makes you want to sing the blues, or perhaps watch a light-hearted romantic comedy on Hallmark Channel. See, I didn't forget about Lynn and Lena. But, in the relevance game, big Phil hit home just a tad more than these accomplished divas.

OK, back to work.

Peter Steele V. Guru

It's actually a rare occasion when stars from "my generation" pass prematurely. There has been a lag since the last double -- and frankly this was almost a triple with that Athiest dude who flipped over to God at the very end.

But I had to do my own Run DMC / Aerosmith thing, only much darker. Let's start with Peter Steele from Type O Negative.

I had an extremely visceral experience shopping tor CDs back in the mid nineties. This was just when they were starting to put out "listening stations." I remember I spent a good 15 minutes with the Type O CD -- it had all the right ingredients:  dark lyrics, compelling cover art. For me, being able to listen to the music in advance sort of ruined the mysterious "advance" nature of buying an album unheard based on how it looks and makes you feel. I picked up "Felt" as a cassette no less -- and as an import -- and I just knew I would love it -- still do. But Type O? Not-so-much.

I passed on Type O that day, and never really followed them after that. The album was "Bloody Kisses," and I kind of want it now, but I went and bought the greatest hits like a weenie. On the day I heard I created a Type O channel on Pandora and enjoyed it very much. So, now I am excited about exploring the work of Type O and seeing how much it can be a part of my life. We'll see.

Guru, on the other hand. Well that's an entirely different music shopping story. Guru was primarily with the group "Gang Star," sort of a "rapper's rapper" troupe that always had much love and respect from the east coast community. The critics love these guys -- they were the biggest rap act you never heard of for a time there.

And you know how it came to me? Darn record clubs -- so how do you like that? I was trying to oblige my monthly purchase and saw something that puffed up the talents and skills of these "underground east coast" rappers.

So I said "What the heck? Why not?" I like progressive rap, so certainly if there is band that is pushing the limits of the hip hop format -- I will always give them a little time, Such was the case with Guru and Gang Star -- they came to me in cardboard. There was something nice about that -- how archaic and how inaccessible. But I think we all like opening things and discovering them -- for me, it's not so much at retail.

I know there's a lesson in there somewhere. Something about delayed gratification, I think. Either that, or the existence of God. One of the two.

Lech Kaczynski and Meinhardt Raabe

I really can't make this stuff up, people. I have been listening to Polish Death Metal a fair bit lately. Bands like Vader and Decapitated, oh and Lux Oculta. For those who don't know, Polish Metal artists are known for a highly technical style, which borders on the impossible.

Lech Kaczynski was born June 18, 1949, and he and his brother achieved fame as child actors in a hit 1962 movie, "Those Two Who Would Steal the Moon," about troublemaking twins who try to get rich by stealing the moon and selling it.

That, I also could not have made up. I have not seen this movie, but I certainly will check to see if I can add it to my Netflix queue.

For a blog that is about celebrity death and laced with irony, the death of Meinhardt Raabe is bittersweet.

Yes, Yes, he was played the coroner, and yes, yes, he was the last remaining member of the cast with a "speaking" role.

But, why did his death have to occur on the same day as the President of Poland? Meinhardt certainly deserves better, but what can you do? I actually am growing quite fond of the "two-fer" format and I believe it adds a whole new level of 'meta' to the equation. So, if you are going to be upstaged, my Munchkin friend, please know that it is in the name of moving the product forward.

I just wish I had the energy for Dixie Carter....