I'm not an obsessive fan, and I don't particularly feel a need to justify it; I just love Judy Garland, admire her talent, feel sad about the sorrows of her life, and somehow wish it had all turned out a little better. The beginning was so enchanting:
And the highs were so high - when you were an MGM star, you were a no-questions-asked Star:
She is still instantly recognizable, even in a few strokes of a pen:
I was talking, once, with Someone Who Was There (and kind of a big name in their own right), and somehow we got talking about Garland. "What everyone forgets," he said, looking off into the middle distance, thoughtful, "is that an awful lot of the time she had an enormous amount of fun."
I think that's encouraging.
If you care to read a rather good essay on the Judy Phenomenon, The Atlantic has one here. Reading it might be a nice way to mark the day; but listening to the Voice would be a better one.