Heath Ledger: Into the sunset

Why is it so sad when a celebrity dies? Especially a celebrity with talent, a celebrity we might admire for his or her work, a celebrity who seems like someone we'd crush on across the Chem 102 lab?

Is it because we feel like we know them because we've connected with them on-screen in some dark stadium seat theater?

Is it because we've identified with them, toting their Baby Ugg-booted kids and carrying venti coffees?

Is it because we can envision them accepting Oscars, producing great films, standing up as spokespeople for the causes we too believe in?

Is it because we want their talent to rise above addictions and obsessions and the mania that is Hollywood?

Or is it just because we recognize them, we read about them in trashy magazines, we are extending a bit of humanity in an ever-mobile, oft-isolating world?

Whatever it is, it is sad sad sad that actor and dad Heath Ledger has died. Even sadder that it happened at the age of 28. Sadder still that he leaves behind a young daughter and surely many other loved ones and many, many more stunned onlookers and fans. 

Much will be written about Heath Ledger's death, of course. And much more will be discussed. Whatever clues emerge, whatever is speculated about the pills in his apartment, the death of this man -- an actor yes, but also Matilda's daddy -- is so unfortunate.