Whitney Houston: Of A Wasted Talent and the Freedom We Seek.

She was naturally gifted. Intensely beautiful and with a perfect body shape that any lady could ask for from God. She came from a good home. Brought up in a good home. And surrounded by gifted and well-respected gospel singers. And she was groomed and nurtured to superstardom by the legendary Clive Davis the President of Columbia Records. She couldn't have asked for more. And no artist in her generation had a better support system. Then came Mr. Bobby Brown. Would she still be alive today if she had married someone more mature, sophisticated, and urbane? We may never know. But death wouldn't have been an easy call. That I do know. And that's what this story is about.

Bobby Brown was wild, but he wasn't a drug addict. Whitney was. That the story of Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown getting married came as a rude shock to the entertainment community was an understatement. How? No one could tell. They didn't have anything in common, even though they were reputed, singers and performers. 

Musically, one made it to stardom on a shoestring, while the other had it all laid out - she was born into it. One was into weed, and the other was on hard substances. But most people thought the reverse was the case. No, it was the angel that was hardcore who, in fact, introduced the so-called wild one into a world of hard substance. 

So, why Bobby as a husband, out of all the eligible superstars and megastars? Simple. To be able to live her pastime and passion uncensored. Bobby couldn't control her, and he moved on. 

What would have happened if she had married grown-up guys in the category of Mr. Eddy Murphy or a college-educated guy like Wesley Snipes, Terrence Howard, Taye Diggs, or Big Dreamers like Baby Face, Jimmy Jam, and Terry Lewis? We may never know. But what I do know is that, at least, a grownup and more mature, sophisticated man in the house would have been able to straighten her up, seek outside help and not abandon her in the cold to cherish her passion unhinged. 

Her only daughter died exactly the same way that she died. She brought the boy home as a teenager from the same school to live with her and her Mom. And when Whitney died, the boy who ought to be a Big Brother to the lonely child, became her Mr. Lover Man. Today, both the girl and the boy are dead. And I do not want to go into details about the circumstances of her death. 

Much as I am not willing to hold Mr. Bobby Brown responsible for the death of Whitney Houston, I am unwilling to excuse him of responsibility for the death of the only child they had together. Knowing the circumstances that surrounded the death of her mother, the best Bobby could have done was take custody of their only child or arrange for her to live with her grandmother. He didn't. The little girl was allowed to be used and abused and abandoned by a once-upon-a-time suffering friend in her class she brought home to enjoy the riches and love of her lovely Mother.

I know it is a free world that we live in America, any child or teenager can make a choice about where he or she wants to live or whose company he or she wants to keep. Be that as it may, a more disciplined and mature voice would have made a huge difference in the circumstances. Maybe, just maybe Whitney and her only daughter would still be alive today. It wasn't about love for Bobby, but the opportunity to be free and uncensored in the satisfaction of passion. Who knows! But what I do know is that you guys had nothing in common.