About seeing Whitney Houston

On February eleventh, I like the rest of North America, heard that Whitney Houston was dead.   Not of some lingering illness or an unforeseen accident but of an overdose of drugs and alcohol.  She was 48.  

Houston was a mezzo-soprano, and was commonly referred to as "The Voice" in reference to her exceptional vocal talent.  Her vocal range extended from G below middle C (G₃) to high B-flat  (B♭₅); she could belt out to treble F (F₅).  Whitney was third in MTV's list of 22 Greatest Voices.   At her peak Whitney was worth $150 million, it has now been released that at the time of her debt she was $20 million in debt.  It is sad to see someone who rode so high crash so low.  Then I remembered, I had seen Whitney in person.

The year was 1989 and I was one of four women who visited New York on a whirlwind “show” tour. One of our shows was Diana Ross in concert at Radio City Music Hall.  Our tickets were for the midnight show.  Diana was awesome, more about that later.  About half way through the show she mentioned there was someone special in the audience and called Whitney to the stage.  I was sure Diana called Whitney her niece; however they are no relation whatsoever. Whitney’s mother is a singer, Cissy Houston who sang back up on several of Diana Ross's Albums!

Whitney floated on stage; she had that ethereal fairy dust quality.  Towering over the diminutive Diana, Whitney sang one number.  Although we were in nose bleed seats I put my opera glasses to good use.  One number and she left, drifted off the stage and out of my life.

Diana resumed her concert.   She was magnificent, making at least seven costume changes with matching vocal selections.  I had not realized how tiny Ross was and many of her costumes were very heavy. The program said that one weighed twenty pounds.  We were also informed that Diana often lost up to ten pounds in a performance.  It was a magnificent show; we enjoyed the audience almost as much as Diana.  Many had arrived in stretch limos and wore evening clothes glitzed with what we now call bling.  We wore casual clothing and sneakers and enjoyed the evening immensely.  I had not thought of the Diana Ross concert for many years.   

Is it the quest for riches that drives these entertainers?  Does signing one contract for a cool million make them salivate for more?  Are possessions really so important?   I wish I could have told the young Whitney Houston what her future would hold.   She would not have been deterred.