Because Not All Celebrities Want to Be Buried at Forest Lawn

or Hollywood Forever or Westwood Memorial Park, that's why. They don't necessarily prefer to be buried where their careers started or prefer to be cremated.

There are many people who prefer to be buried in the family plot or buried near beloved family members. It only makes sense Whitney Houston would be buried near her dad in a New Jersey cemetery. Her daughter can visit both whenever she likes instead of having family spread out all over the place.

After all, cemeteries are places for the living, not for the dead.

I have had to change the channel from CNN, HSN, and the regular news networks these past few days because of the nonstop coverage of Houston's untimely though not unsurprising death of yet undisclosed causes (though the speculation of some kind of drug/alcohol overdose seems to be the most likely explanation). The low point was Nancy Grace almost blaming Bobby Brown, Houston's ex-husband, for her death despite the two of them having been divorced for about five years. I find myself preferring to watch shows that are a little less depressing and more uplifting such as Stolen Voices, Buried Secrets; 48 Hours; Dominick Dunne's Power, Privilege & Justice; Snapped; and other true crime shows. At least I am spared listening to Whitney's caterwauling in her most famous recording, Dolly Parton's "I Will Always Love You." Parton sang the song better, by the way, but nobody remembers it because she didn't screech the hell out of it. Parton didn't get hailed as the greatest singer who ever lived because she had the pipes and allowed them to spew exhaust all out of control and have it called superior range by people who should know better. She simply put her own stamp on it and interpreted in her own way. That's what real singers are supposed to do, not be vocal Liberaces trying to show off how good they are (at least Liberace had a good sense a humor with his piano playing).

After all, you don't have to have a technically good voice to be a great singer, at least outside of opera. Those people are a dime a dozen. You do, however, have to know how communicate the lyrics in a way that gets your listener to actually identify with you. It also helps if you do have the range, and when you do, know when and how to use those high notes. Jackie Wilson had a near-operatic vocal range, and when he hit those high notes like he did with many of his recordings with the Dominoes early in his career, he could send chills up and down one's spine. He was certainly one of the greatest popular singers of all time, but he isn't much remembered today except for his final hit, the 1967 "Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher." It was a great song, but it didn't actually showcase his vocal range and power like other recordings. Elvis Presley was another great singer who seemed to have the ability to excel at so many different genres of music, and his ability to NEVER, EVER "oversing" a song regardless of the quality of the material is perhaps unique. He was also unique in that he unfailingly knew exactly how a song should be interpreted. Presley was a great song stylist, perhaps the best of all time, and his work continues to be appreciated all over over the world because of his unique ability to interpret a song. Presley also had a terrific vocal range that wasn't always appreciated by music critics. Mahalia Jackson, widely considered the greatest gospel singer of all time (and who gets my vote as THE best popular singer of all time), had not only the vocal range but she had the sheer vocal power that was an overwhelming listening experience. She had a voice that could shatter glass, but she never, ever, pulled a Whitney and screeched her material.

To be fair, Whitney Houston could give a great performance when she felt like it. One thinks of her 1991 interpretation of "The Star-Spangled Banner" at the Super Bowl as an example of a great performance. She didn't pull all of the fancy melisma garbage or whatever the term is called and merely sang the song straight. It gave me chills listening to it because she clearly had the vocal chops. It is just that so often Houston, like Linda Ronstadt, didn't know how to use her voice for maximum effect.

Houston could have learned a thing or two from Judy Garland and I don't mean the lifestyle.

If you get a chance to view it (I had the video on this blog, but it was taken down by YouTube after a copyright violation complaint), take a look at her performance of the Kern-Hammerstein standard "Ol' Man River" from her great and short-lived television show from 1963-1964. Certainly it is one of the all-time great performances, and it is a perfect example of what a great singer should be. Garland's voice was rough around the edges by this time thanks to years of hard living, but it works magnificently in this song. Garland was actually singing about her life here rather than merely covering a song from the musical Show Boat and sung on stage and in the 1936 film by Paul Robeson. She made that song all her own. What a performance.

And Robeson? He perhaps was the greatest male singer ever to step in front of a mic. What a talent he was; he was one of those rare individuals who excelled at everything he did (he trained as a lawyer, was a professional athlete, then went into show business and at the same time became a political activist), but he was persecuted for his political beliefs and died in near-obscurity.

My mom, who was always partial to singers who had near-operatic range, just loved Robeson. And frankly, after listening to him, every other male singer who ever lived has to vie for second place. Paul stands alone:



Just how in the hell Robeson and "Ol' Man River" were overlooked by those people who came up with the 100 greatest songs list ("Over the Rainbow" by Judy Garland topped it) is a mystery to me. It certainly is a top five candidate, if not at the very top of great songs and performances.

Great singing is about the communication and not just about the technique.