Yesterday, the kids and I were at the Clubhouse for lunch. I was cleaning up the tables when the Professor came up to me and said that Michael Jackson had died. I didn't believe him, thought he was playing yet another one of his kind of bizarre practical jokes but he kept saying, "Mom, it's true, go online and see." We went home to get everyone ready for swimming and the Professor turned on the TV. Sure enough, it was true. Michael Jackson had passed away.
Like many of you, I "grew up" with Michael Jackson. I remember watching the horribly drawn, even worse vocal acting by the Jackson brothers, Jackson 5 cartoon. The best part of that show was Michael and his pets, two mice and a snake if I remember correctly. Back then, that was the strangest thing about Michael - that he owned a pet snake in a cartoon. Who could imagine that later on he wold be best friends with Bubbles the Chimp or Macaulay the Caulkin? At that time, he was still the cute black normal Michael with his original nose.
Back then, girls of my age were divided into two camps. You either liked the Osmonds or you liked the Jacksons, you either had Tiger Beat photos of Donny on your wall or Michael. For some reason, you couldn't like both. (For those of you who are younger than me, it was like the New Edition vs. NKOTB rivalry). It never felt like a race-based choice, at least for me. I never thought that it was chosing the white kids over the black kids. It wasn't even an issue. It was strictly liking one lead singer with lots of brothers over the other.
For me, it was unquestionably Michael. He was so adorably cute back then. His bell bottoms, vest and tilted hat were so much more appealing to me than Donny in his white polyester jump suit and ever present purple socks. My cousin, LN, was a Donny fan though and even dragged me to an Osmonds concert to try to convince me that the boys from Salt Lake City, Utah were much better than the boys from Gary, Indiana. Didn't change a thing for me, my heart still belonged to Michael, Tito, Jackie, Marlon and Jermaine.
During intermediate school, I went though a KISS phase so Michael became a nonentity. All I wanted to do was learn how to play drums like the Cat Man, Peter Criss, and have a rose tattoo on my shoulder like Paul Stanley.
However, in high school, Michael released Off the Wall and I went back to him. What girl didn't swoon when you saw him with his big afro and black suit dancing on Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough? He was actually SEXY which was both a turn on and a turn off. I even made a total okole out of myself dancing on stage to Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough, dressed in shiny La Mancha clothes, for my Senior Class play. That's how much I loved Michael.
Then came that performance of Billie Jean at the Motown 25th Anniversary Celebration. That's when you know you were in the presence of an icon, of a person with talent the likes you would never see again.
When Thriller was released, it was over. I was back to being a die hard Michael fanatic. Admit it, you too tried to follow the choreographed steps to the Zombie dance whenever the video came out on MTV. It was and always will be one of the most memorable videos ever released. I can tell you every scene in Smooth Criminal or The Way You Make Me Feel. I can even tell you when Latoya Jackson and Linda McCartney appear in the video for Say, Say, Say.
Sadly, that was when all of the Wacko Jacko stuff started and I had to take my love of Michael underground. It was no longer cool to like Michael. It was fine that he "dated" Brooke Shields and Tatum O'Neal but when he carried Emmanuel Lewis of Webster (and Bubbles) to events, that was very disconcerning. Hey, did I tell you I met Emmanuel in LA when I was in Law School?
The child molestation charges were unexpected but not surprising. Yet, I still believed in the goodness of Michael. Maybe I was naive but I wanted to believe in him, I wanted to believe that the person who was my childhood hero was a pure as he purported to be. I wondered what I would do if my children received an invitation to Neverland? I thought I would let them go only if I could accompany them and I surely would not accept an invitation to let them "sleep over" in his bedroom. As a parent, I thought anyone who allowed their kids to do that was crazy. That's when I knew he was no longer my hero but had turned into a strange creepy person.
When the whole Debbie Rowe baby thing and the dangling Blanket out the window situations happened, that was it for me.
But now that he is gone, I find myself incredibly sad about his passing. I now understand how my Mom and my Aunties felt when Elvis died unexpectedly. They still tell stories about the time Elvis visited Hawaii and how lucky they were to get tickets to his Aloha in Hawaii concert. They envy those who have travelled to Graceland and always seek out the Elvis slot machines in Vegas. They choose to ignore the "old" Elvis, the pill popping, television destroying, tragic Elvis. Instead, they remember the "young" Elvis of their youth.
That is what I am going to do - remember the handsome, young Michael who was the lead singer of the Jackson Five and not the white female plastic surgery ravaged Michael of the past decade.
That is the only way I can cope with this.
My five favorite Michael Jackson songs:
1) Don't Stop Til You Get Enough
2) Ben
3) Bad (must dance around and pretend I am a gang member)
4) Man in the Mirror (always makes me cry)
5) ABC
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