Normally I ignore celebrity culture as much as possible, and in my earlier days, I would have mocked and ridiculed Amy Winehouse for the addictive demons that destroyed her. Perhaps it's a sign of my own maturity, sobriety, experience as a parent, and just an all-around more sympathetic person to the human condition that I don't fell that way about Amy Winehouse. Maybe it's because I genuinely liked her original style and music.
The past few days, I've verbally spanked some people on Twitter and Facebook for slamming this talented, beautiful young woman. It's so easy for people without addictions, or perhaps even addictions of their own, to believe they're better, then criticize others. That's an easy cop-out and though ultimately Ms. Winehouse needed to take responsibility for her body and herself, I can't stand pious mockery.
Something else bothers me about this story that I can't quite put my finger on. Has there been another person in the history of the human race whose addictions and quicksand of problems has been more well documented? Maybe Charlie Sheen, but somehow he's still alive. I live across the pond and many thousands of mile from Ms. Winehouse, but somehow I feel a measure of guilt about how I watched this woman's life disintegrate. Tabloid websites enjoyed millions of hits publicizing her under-the-influence antics, and I was one of the people who read them and probably chortled a time or two at the stories.
I feel bad that I'll never hear the next great album she never produced, I feel bad for her parents, and I feel bad that a little girl couldn't find sober happiness in this world. It's so sad.