I turned on the TV this afternoon to be greeted with the fact that Heath Ledger was dead at the age of 28 of a suspected drug overdose. The authorities are unsure if it was accidental or if it was a suicide.

First, let me make this clear: I don’t give a shit about celebrities!! I don’t care where they live, what they do, who they date or what they wear. I am cringing at the fact that, more than likely, the rest of the month’s news coverage will be dedicated to Heath Ledger’s untimely death.

Now let me get on my bitch box and tell you why this pisses me off. Heath Ledger was not the train wreck Anna Nicole Smith was or Britney Spears is. In fact the Associated Press has already written Britney Spears’ obituary. This is something that is usually reserved for celebrities over the age of 60. Heath Ledger had access to resources most people don’t. I understand money doesn’t buy happiness but he had enough to pay for therapy, if he was depressed and this was a suicide. If he was abusing drugs he could afford to take the time off of work and go to rehab. Average Americans can’t afford these things, especially if they don’t have health insurance or have poor health coverage. It just pissed me off that someone that had the ability to save himself may have chosen not to when other people who want to help themselves can’t.

Yesterday, I was opening our mail not really paying a whole lot of attention when I find an invite for a reception for John Morris. (Disclaimer: My husband and I know John & Cindy through our children’s school. We think they are really nice people and have attended John’s open house several months ago.) There was the invite and the reply card. The reply card was the usual - how many people are coming, can’t attend but will contribute, contribute for signs, ads, mailings, etc. Then for campaign finance purposes it asks for your name, address, occupation and employer. Not knowing if my husband wants to attend or not I am about to start filling out the name and address section. I flip over the envelope to see if it is address to Brad or Bradley when I discover that the invite is not addressed to us. It is addressed to the lady who lived in our house before we did (we have lived here 9 years). Did I also mention that she has been dead for almost 10 years? Now I really want to fill out the comment card:

Name: Mrs. M.J.C.
Address: insert random cemetary address
Occupation: Landscaper
Then I’d write a little note:
I regret that I am unable to attend and contribute. Landscaping has been slow, considering I’ve been fertilizing the same plot for almost ten years and I have no new business. Considering that I haven’t voted in at least 9 years (or have I?), I am really surprised that you dug up my name and former address. As much as I am dying to attend, I really must decline.
Dig Ya Later,
Mrs. M.J.C.

I did end up calling John Morris’ campaign office and letting them know that they are inviting dead people to the reception. They are taking Mrs. M.J.C off their list and letting her rest in peace!