I was in DC at my sorority’s convention when I heard the first rumblings about Cory Monteith’s passing. I got that news about the same time the Zimmerman verdict, so mourning an actor’s passing in the face of such a watershed moment in civil rights and injustice seemed a bit frivolous and shallow. So a broken heart graced the profile of my Facebook page instead of a picture of him…and yes I realize that I never met him and outside of the one song-filled hour a week he came into my home, he had no direct effect on my life. That doesn’t make this any less sad or hurt any less. A young man is dead….he had his own struggles and personal demons but he was trying to live life the best he could, just like the rest of us. I’ve heard so many complaints about the Emmy tribute and why other more seasoned actors should have been featured instead, or that said singularity was glorifying the addict over the actor….to which I say, who gives a rat’s ass? Y’all plan to stop sanctifying Elvis Presley every January and August? What about James Dean, who may have died in a car accident but still died young? How about River Phoenix and Heath Ledger? We gonna keep clubbing THEM over the head in their afterlives, too?
So yeah, I’m remembering Cory. I’m remembering all of the seasons of Glee and his frank addressing of his troubled life on Inside The Actor’s Studio and his last tweet about Sharknado. I’m remembering the character of Finn Hudson and how much of his teenage struggle mirrored my life. And I’m remembering the same way we Gleeks loved Finn, his family and friends and castmates loved Cory. I’m glad for The Quarterback and the opportunity it gave all of us to laugh and cry and grieve and remember. To move forward, and take that midnight train going anywhere. And to let the show go…all over the place…or something.
I remember you, Cory. Godspeed.