Now, the 20th century can end.

That was my first thought last Friday morning when I heard the news of Frank Sinatra's death. It was an odd moment: I had fallen asleep on the couch the night before (something I've been doing a lot of lately since I've been staying up until 1AM writing and editing), and when I awoke the next day something told me to turn on the television before I even opened my eyes all the way. The instant the TV came on, Katie Couric said "in case you're just waking up, Frank Sinatra died last night of a heart attack. He was 82," or something like that. Weird.*

I won't bore or annoy you with a long essay about why Frank will be missed. The networks and cable stations and newspapers and magazines have been non-stop with their tributes, funeral coverage, and specials. Let's just say that now that he is gone, the 20th century can end. He was that important to popular culture. In fact, he's playing in the background right now ("I've Got You Under My Skin," live version with Count Basie) as I type this.

I keep thinking that if my mom was still alive, she would probably be crying right now over his death. Funny how a stranger's passing can sometimes remind you of the passing of those closest to you. If we take into account theoretical relationships, that "six degrees of separation" thing is astonishingly accurate.

And Thursday marked the passing of another pop culture institution: Seinfeld (odd how they ended the same night , eh?). While nothing could have lived up to the finale hype (one of the local stations here in Boston actually had a Seinfeld clcok in the lower left hand corner of the TV screen, counting down the minutes to the last episode), I was disappointed. Yeah, I know, I got the whole "these selfish four finally got what was coming to them" irony and all that. But there was just something...I don't know...missing. Still, it didn't ruin the previous 9 years of the show. Yada, yada, yada...you can read my review here.

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*Another odd thing that happened: the night that Princess Di was in the car accident, I went to bed after hearing the news, thinking she was just injured and she would be fine. As I was lying in bed, something told me to turn on the radio, and when I did, I heard the news that she had died - instantly when I turned on the radio. I guess the moral of the story is I should never go to bed, or famous celebrities will die all around the world.

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