It breaks my heart to hear about Linda Ronstadt.

She’s not the first – and won’t be the last – to be afflicted by Parkinson’s Disease, but unlike several other celebrities who have suffered its debilitating symptoms, I have such good memories associated with Ms. Ronstadt.

Not that I ever even met the award-winning singer.

It’s crazy, but when there are life-events that we associate with other positive occasions, it is hard to separate the reality from the memory.

I’ve mentioned more than once – specifically – my association with Linda Ronstadt and her hit song You’re No Good with my buying a brand-new British sportscar. Driving around in that era when Top-40 hits were played on the radio hourly (it seemed to me). I remember the long music passage that started that song. In radio, we called that the “intro” and we read the weather over that one, one of the few songs that had a long enough passage to complete a forecast.

When I heard the news about Ms. Ronstadt, it was sort of like a punch in the gut.

Michael J. Fox has suffered from the disease for more than twenty years, but has recently returned to the spotlight, playing roles in The Good Wife and preparing to debut his own program, in which his condition will play a role of its own. He has managed to carry on with his craft.

I remember meeting Mohammed Ali at a press conference when he visited Tulsa to promote a thumb-less boxing glove. My memories of him did not match the man standing in front of me. His courage in light of his condition was apparent by his light-hearted manner in dealing with the lot of us. He wasn’t boxing any longer, but was still ducking and weaving to our questions.

Linda Ronstadt says she cannot sing any longer. The eleven-time Grammy winner has had symptoms for six or seven years, she says, but only revealed her diagnosis recently in an interview with AARP magazine.

That’s another shocker.

My recollection is of that beautiful young woman singing her heart out. I can offer my weak harmonies to her hits, even those dating back to the days of the Stone Poneys and Different Drum (as in: You and I march to the beat of a Different Drum), released in 1967. Man. That was a good time ago.

It’s just hard to think about these icons of our lifetime aging – when in our memories they tend to stay young. Young. Forever.

Linda Ronstadt is 67 years old.

My friend Mr. L has pointed out that the 50th Anniversary of the Beatles and their initial performance on US television appearance is rapidly approaching. His remark?

50 years.

I’m thinking: Where did all that time go?

I can remember the discussion among my classmates on the morning after the Beatles’ first TV appearance. Recall it like it was yesterday. News flash: It wasn’t yesterday.

It’s good keep in mind the positive things. At least I’m in a position to be looking back on these anniversaries. Still breathing and kicking. Don’t walk so quickly anymore.

But I can still sing. Never -ever- could with the command Ms. Ronstadt possessed, but I love that expression of spirit enough to know what she has lost.

I’m sorry, Linda. In my heart and in the theater of my memory your voice still carries clear and strong, and we’re all still dancing.

To a Different Drum.