Let Whitney Houston Go

The Lifetime channel has approved the taping of the Houston Family Chronicles, designed to follow surviving family members of Whitney Houston. According to recent reports, the show will star Whitney's sister-in-law and manager Pat Houston and Pat's daughter Rayah, as well as Whitney's Houston's brother Gary, daughter Bobbi Kristina and mother Cissy Houston.


While some producers claim the show's content will be aimed at showing the healing process of the family since Whitney's death by following their daily routine of continuing grief and reveal how the are growing and moving along as a family.

Interestingly, Whitney's mother, Cissy, gave the green light to proceed with the project, expressing a concern for Whitney's daughter Bobbi Kristina and her upcoming singing career. Pat Houston has said the show was in the works while Whitney was alive - perhaps a take-off on the failed reality show where Whitney and her husband at the time, Bobby Brown, exposed the debased lifestyles of both of the entertainers in the every day lives.

So this is what entertainment has come to . . . voyeurism and stalking. A person reaches super star status and her family is left to wonder what will become of them now that there is void too big to fill any other way than with their own fame and fortune found vicariously through the death of their meal ticket.

So, careers may be launched and talents may be discovered that may not have been realized without the death of Whitney Houston. The benefits are far reaching even beyond the grave.

Perhaps a DNA Ancestry test could prove that I was sired by someone famous and now that I have realized that fact cameras should follow me around to see how I deal with my new found grief.

After all, I just released a CD last November at 57 years-of-age and could use a boost to convince people to go to my music website at http://Rainbows-Angels.com and appreciate the music because I am the survivor of somebody who was once famous. My dad was a super star, bigger than Elvis, bigger than the Beatles, bigger than Dylan and Hendrix - I just don't know who he was. But that shouldn't matter. I should be successful anyway because he was my father.

Well, I have to go now. I am working on another CD and need to work on the songs before all the cameras and paparazzi arrive to follow my every move.



Peace - Ho'oponopono . . .