So, I'm sitting in front of my computer Thursday afternoon, waiting for the day to continue and finally get over, when a co-worker (no names or positions will be mentioned) comes into my area.

(I don't think I should call it an office, since there is no door).

Anyway, I'm reading the story about Pavarotti dying Thursday morning.

I felt terrible for his family and fans, having just gone through a cancer death in my own family.

However, what happened next just surprised me.

As I was reading the story and prepping it for our paper, this co-worker asked who Pavarotti was.

It really threw me. I was not expecting that at all.

I thought nearly everyone on the planet knew Pavarotti. Right? It seemed to make sense to me.

But alas, this co-worker did not.

It got me thinking, will people remember the shooting stars in our world? Do people know who Jim Morrison is? Jimi Hendrix? John Lennon? Freddie Mercury?

There is a host of entertainers who have died young. The shooting stars. Sure, their fame will stand the test of time.

But what about Pavarotti?

His fame was greater than any of these others that were mentioned. And he lasted longer.

But for someone to not know who he is, well, that's just weird to me.

That just doesn't make sense.

Sure, people seem to know and recognize Kurt Cobain. He was given the throne by MTV as the voice of my generation, something, by the way, that my generation should be completely disgusted with. Not only did he not deserve it, he didn't want it.

But where's the love of history? The classics? Oh dear, I'm starting to sound like my parents.

It truly is kind of sad. But what is truly kind of sad?