What Kind of F*ckery is This?

Amy Winehouse

Image by NRK P3 via Flickr

On Saturday, July 23, I was taking a break at work around 12:30 pm.  I took a quick peek on Twitter to see that people were sharing the news that Amy Winehouse had been found dead in her London flat.  I was saddened and surprised, but not shocked.  To say it was inevitable may be cruel, but it’s an accurate statement.  I went back and told my co-workers that she had died.  As an ode to her, they wanted to sing “Rehab”; I told them “no; that’s highly inappropriate.” 

Amy Winehouse was poised to become this generation’s Teena Marie-a soulful white girl who had a unique sound.  Sadly, her career didn’t have the chance to flourish like Marie’s, but she will never be forgotten.  As my auntie Madeline pointed out to me, it’s ironic that she, Janis Joplin, and Jimi Hendrix all died at the age of 27.  I’ve lived longer than all three of these artists.  Another ironic thing about Amy’s death is that she died within weeks of Betty Ford, the biggest proponent of battling addiction.  I mentioned Amy in a WBW post earlier this year.  I guess we’ll never know what greatness she and ?uestlove would have made in the studio. 

Today’s post title is my favorite Winehouse lyric from the track “Me and Mr. Jones”; heck, it might be my favorite song lyric ever.  And it explains how I’m sure a lot of people are feeling about her death right now.  I hope at least one person who’s battling addiction learns something from this and is able to get clean.  I hope Amy is resting in peace.  And I’m sure Mrs. Ford is getting in that a–.  Until next time, I’m just a Southern girl…in the city.

Advertisements