"...Keyser Soze, On Fame...Like That!...It's Gone...."

For the family, the personal loss will be the hardship.

For the rest of us, it will be a combination of sadness...and enduring the inevitable puns.



Popular actress Erin Moran, a mainstay on TV from the late '60s to the mid-'80s and best known for her kid-sister role in the sitcom "Happy Days," has died. She was 56.

Authorities in Indiana found her body Saturday afternoon after getting a 911 call at 4:07 p.m. for "an unresponsive female," the Harrison County Sheriff's Department said.

 

 

She had been the subject of tabloid reports that she and her husband were living in a trailer in Indiana since losing her home to foreclosure in California. While other cast members continued to act or direct, acting work dried up for Moran.

 

IMDb lists just five acting credits from 1998 until her last role in 2010

 

 

Paul Petersen, author, activist and a former successful child actor himself, posted this sharing on his Facebook page today.

 

 

Erin Moran Has Passed

It hurts to even write these words. An entire community of former kid actors is not only taking note, but will long remember this kind-heated soul who soldiered on until at age 56 she was done.

She was so far away in Indiana. The help she ran from was right here, as close as a call. Those of us who knew her pain and remember it so well must tonight rededicate ourselves to the task of making sure that none of our brethren pass away unremarked or feel unloved.

Erin Moran lived and she mattered. Her talent and beauty were on display. Fame won young can be a cruel mistress, often outlasting the person within the purpose. Dearest Erin, you will be remembered by all those with the humility to understand what it means to say, “There but for the Grace of God go I.”

Paul Petersen, just one voice for A Minor Consideration*

 

 

There is something almost uniquely poignant in this passing. Fame, historically and by its nature, has been correctly described as both fickle and fleeting and there's no evidence that those adjectives will fall out of usage anytime soon.

 

But, in this era of reality television and selfies and social media self promotion, fame takes on an additional attribute. Where once fame was, at least in some measure, earned with some skill or talent or ability, no matter how fickle or fleeting that talent or ability might have been, it is now less bestowed than it is simply handed out like home printed flyers in a shopping center parking lot.

 

Andy Warhol once wryly offered that in the future, everyone would have fifteen minutes of fame. What he didn't apparently realize, at the time of his prediction, was that fame would not only be handed out to so many, so much and for so little, but that it would happen all at once. Put simply, were Andy around today, the prediction might be more accurately offered as "in the future, everyone will have fifteen minutes of fame and they will all have that fame at the same time."

 

There are a couple of inevitable side effects to this particular generic, cheaply manufactured and distributed notoriety. First, the shelf life is considerably less than in past editions. Today's Facebook phenom is, literally, tomorrow's "who?"

And, equally inevitable, the quality, such as it ever is, of fame itself is diminished, lessened, cheapened. If everyone on this Earth had sparkling green eyes and flaming red hair, what would be even remotely special about sparkling green eyes and flaming red hair?

In this era of instant, constant and, fair to say, incessant communication and distribution of information, though, the aforementioned poignancy makes its appearance. And it adds to the dual qualities of fame, fickle and fleeting, to create a new, at least a little ironic and not just a little sad, tri-fecta, as it were.

Fame is now fickle, fleeting and, if only briefly, renewable.

Erin Moran was famous a long time ago. And then she wasn't famous anymore.

Today, Erin Moran is famous again.

In the moment.

 

For the moment.

For the family, the personal loss will the hardship.

For the rest of us, a combination of the sadness of renewed fame...and enduring the inevitable puns.

"...no more Happy Days...."

"...un-Happy Days..."

"...Chachi Misses Joanie..."

Stand by. Many more to come.

In the moment.

For the moment.

 

 

 

 

*The organization that Petersen mentions, and founded, "A Minor Consideration" is an advocacy group that focuses its energies and efforts on assisting young actors as they make the transition from childhood to adulthood. Too often, children/young adults who have known some fame and/or fortune find the reality of an adulthood without that fame or fortune damaging. It is an often overlooked cause and the organization makes a remarkable contribution to addressing the issue. Check out their website at http://aminorconsideration.org/