John Travolta is one of my idols. For years as a teen I practiced to dance like him in SNF, and even nowadays, when my liver is properly lubricated (strange that connection between liver and legs) I can break out into an angst-driven jig to the Bee Gees.
So when Travolta’s son died, I felt pretty depressed, almost cried.
So now two days later, I notice that:
a)My idols do affect me a lot and maybe I should look closely at how subliminally they have influenced my life
b)No parent should ever have to bury his/her child
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1 comment:
Great choice of Title. Greatest, even.
If, that is, I know what you mean.
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