Farrah Fawcett

What's WRONG? At CLUB DEAD, The bell tolls for Farrah Fawcett, dead from cancer at age 62. She passed with longtime companion Ryan O'Neal and close friend Alana Stewart at her bedside. With er courage in the face of illness, maybe in the end, she earned the respect to paralel her fame.

"She was an angel on Earth and now an angel forever," said former husband Lee Majors.

The hair. That's what stood out for me. There was the smile, those white teeth, the poster, and of course, the jiggle.

Farrah Fawcett was a phenomenon. Image careflly nurtured by superagent Jay Bernstein, her poster graced thousands of walls. She attained that untimate level of celberity, those who could be indentified with one name. everyone knew who Farrah was.

"Charlie's Angels" ushered in a new TV era, the "jiggle" show. The show boasted three sexy women (Farrah, Kate Jackson, and Jaclyn Smith) who worked as private investigators for the mysterious heard-but-never-seen Charlie. The show debuted in the fall of 1976 and soared to the top 5. But Farrah yearned for more challenges, and more respect.

She left Charlie's Angels at the height of her popularity, hoping for a great movie career, only become the butt of jokes. Her first film, "Somebody Killed My Husband" was such a disaster that the buzzword for it around Hollywood was "Sombody Killed My Career."

Although things didn't pan out as hoped, she did attain a measure of credibility later on. Her TV movie, "The Burning Bed," told of a desperate abused woman, and earned her an Emmy nomination. On stage, in "Extremities," she played a rape victim who wounds and imprisons her attacker. The play required her to brawl on stage night after night. The physically demanding role required that she battle on stage night after night, leaving her beaten and exhausted.

Her recent health battles have been well documented, so much so that many of her eulogies have expressed relief at the end of her suffering.

She was truly a cornerstone of the glamorous late seventies, and a woman who held her head -- and that glorious hair -- high through good times and bad, not an easy thing to do.

Then again, screw her, she's dead. Let's go look for crocodiles.