I can hear the typical Brooklyn comment already: "They're goyim. Who cares?".
As a child of the '70s, Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett creeped into my childhood and adolescence. True, I knew I could never be as pretty as Farrah, and I didn't listen to rock or pop until I was into full-blown adulthood. Yet their personas defined the era in which I grew up.
To have them pass on the same day really makes me feel like a chunk of my early life has been laid to rest.