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Papparazzo and flowers at impromptu Diana memorial at Pioneer Courthouse Square. |
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Like billions of other people, I got up (actually stayed up) on Saturday morning to watch Princess Diana's funeral. I'm kind of embarrassed about that. |
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The coverage has been ridiculous, the very idea of royalty is out-dated and absurd, and the hypocrisy of blaming the press for hounding Princess Diana when you're buying the magazines that publish the pictures is amazing. But it's such a wild feeling to think, "Right now I'm doing the same thing as, like, one-fifth of the planet." That's not something that happens every day. When events that bring the world together in front of TV screen and radios do happen--elections, the Super Bowl, the Olympics, the season finale of ER--there's normally so much build-up, so much pregame hype, if you will, little of surprise really happens. The exciting and incredible thing about Princess Diana's funeral was that viewers really had no idea what would happen. The coffin could have fallen; Prince William could have thrown himself across it; Tom Hanks could have divulged a secret affair with the Princess. So much happens that we're prepared for--another natural disaster, political scandal, Hollywood star meltdown, Blazer arrest--that to witness something wholly unexpected is unusual indeed. And, for the most part, the TV anchors let the funeral (not everything that led up to it and followed it, unfortunately) simply unfold without comment, offering a wonderful glimpse of what life--and television--could be like without talking heads. Diana's brother's intense, moving and in some ways vicious speech was given without Tom Brokaw chipping in with useless context and extraneous data. And even though it was 4 am, I watched transfixed, because something real was happening. I didn't need Katie Couric to tell me to care. Another interesting twist was the death of Mother Teresa in the same week (who's next? famous people always die in threes). Though of course these were two very different women, it brought up the question of what other figure's death would create such a reaction that continents away, even in Portland, thousands would gather for memorial services. Bill Clinton? Nelson Mandela? Michael Jordan? Madonna? Oprah? It's strangely hard to think of anyone who would move the public the way either of these women have. So maybe the lesson to draw from Diana's tragic death is not how sad it is that so many people claim this fabulously wealthy, impossibly beautiful, intellectually uninspiring princess as their hero, but how sad that there are so few others to fill her footsteps.
Seattle envy has claimed another fine Portlander: Willamette Week calendar editor Jacquelin McCarthy has moved up north. There's no way to easily explain how important a calendar editor is, since her byline rarely appears in the paper. Jackie worked here for 2 1/2 years and her contributions will be missed. |
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