So, collective sigh . . . and maybe a shrug: a London coroner announced this week that the uber talented and equally troubled Amy Winehouse drank herself to death.
Not exactly surprising, I know.
Just how much alcohol did it take to finally take out Winehouse? The coroner announced that the pop singer had five times the legal amount of alcohol in her system and that she likely died of accidental alcohol poisoning after having abstained from drinking for weeks. The coroner officially termed WInehouse's demise "Death By Misadventure" .
Say what you will about Winehouse (as did the surprisingly snarky London coroner) but the singer was, according to those who were closest to her, committed to shaking her predilection for drugs and alcohol. Dr. Christina Romete, who treated Winehouse for her dependency issues, claims "She's made tremendous efforts over the years," but that, "she had her own way and was very determined to do everything her way."
Would we expect anything else from Amy Winehouse?
There will be those who will hold up Winehouse as a cautionary example of the perils of celebrity; there will be those who will pity her as a lost cause who never really stood a chance; and then there will be those who will be singing her songs for years to come, regaling her unique persona and distinctive voice as the kind that doesn't just come along once in a generation, but which revolutionizes everything in its wake without even trying.
I'm glad to cast my lot with the latter.
Rest in peace, Wino. We hardly knew ye. ![]()
