A Word About Heath Ledger

I think that word would be, 'damn.'

Other words would be: too talented, too handsome, too young to die.

The worse thing--besides his death at 28--is that he sought to shun the media and gossip spotlight, moving to Brooklyn with his girlfriend and daughter in order to find some respite from the swarming paparazzi. Now, his body, in a bag, is flashed across the world on television. His poor mother and father have to hear of his passing on the news millions of miles away from their son. Rumors fly around about drug use, depression, anxiety, sleeplessness, all of which are suffered by scores of people worldwide whose names aren't dragged through the papers, despite not knowing what exactly killed him. His friends must grieve to the pit of their stomachs, knowing exactly who he was, having laughed and played and worked with him while having to hear terrible stories about the person millions of people didn't know. His daughter now has no father and will only be comforted by celluloid memories that won't be the touch of her dad.

Too sad.

I saw him on the street in Brooklyn once, and being the New Yorker I am, I didn't say a thing to him as I stumbled past, but I can tell you, he was unbelievably easy on the eyes.

"10 Things I Hate About You," "A Knight's Tale," and "The Brothers Grimm" are three incredibly fun movies, while "Monster's Ball" packs a punch and "Brokeback Mountain," I've heard, is so sad that I can't even bear to watch it.

All in all, folks young and old pass every day. The greater majority of these folks we never know about, while some of those we do hear of make us sad that they are gone, and still others that we hear of, we don't regret their passing one bit. In the case of Heath Ledger, I personally, feel saddened that I will no longer see his face on new and different streets or that we will no longer see his face in new and different roles on the silver screen.

Damn.

Rest in peace, Mr. Ledger, rest in peace.