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Aug 18, 2002

If I were to have a new career, one of my top choices would be medical detective. Words like Luminol, medicocriminal entomology, secretions, blood spatter pattern and tissue sampling really set my heart racing. Many hours have been logged watching forensic science programs and TiVo has learned my predilection for anything to do with homicide. In fact, count me out during August 26th through September 1st when Court TV hosts forensics week! Break out the Cheese Wiz, cuz it’s a Par-tay!

What I find most disturbing about these shows is not the crime scene or autopsy pictures, but rather the photos of the victims when they were alive and well. Who says that when you’ve died a media-worthy death that you can’t have a decent press release photo? For instance, when Jennifer Stahl was killed in her apartment above the Carnegie Deli, the media ran a grainy snapshot of her with her eyes squinting, cheeks sunken and lips puckered into an “O” as she inhaled a joint. This is the same woman who performed on Broadway and was in Dirty Dancing and that’s the photo they run? Surely she has a headshot or a video clip of her dancing or at least a family member willing to preserve some shred of dignity for this woman.

I’m going to put together an “in case of emergency, submit this to the press” package to derail the possibility that any photo circa 1987-1989 be used–except of course in the event I’m featured on an episode of “Before They Were Stars.” With hair as tall as an average dwarf and makeup you’d need a chisel to remove, I can only hope that someone would step in on my behalf and say, “Hey, she was young and it was the Eighties!”

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