Whitney Houston, RIP

To me, listening to Whitney Houston was exactly the same as listening to cats howl or to fingernails running across a chalkboard.  I couldn’t turn her music off fast enough.  I also hated that she opened the door to a series of ululating, howling women, all of whom sounded like scalded cats.  If I say I thought she was a great talent, I’d be lying.

However, when a woman who has the world at her feet destroys herself with drugs and dies at age 48, that is a terrible tragedy.  I don’t mourn the loss of a singer I disliked.  I mourn very much the loss of a still-youthful woman with so much talent and promise.  I hope that she finds in death the peace that eluded her in life.

Whitney Houston, requiescat in pace.