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Michael Jackson

This is the poster that hung next to my bed as a child.

This is the poster that hung next to my bed as a child.

People had asked me why I hadn’t written anything about Michael Jackson.  Well, it has taken me this long because I’m of the philosophy, “If you blog it, it is so,” and I just don’t want it to be!  The act of entering this now has me sobbing.  I am still filled with such unspeakable anguish, anger, disbelief, and regret.  My heart is truly broken and I know that I am not the person I was before.  The loss of Michael Jackson is like my generation’s RFK.  We were filled with such hope and anticipation of his sure success; and it was stolen from us.  Like the loss of Bobby for others, I will never forget where I was; and the world knows we are so much less than we were.  No matter what, we will always be “a Michael short”.  He was such a big chunk of our cultural greatness “Gone to Soon”.  ( I was so there when Usher touched his casket and broke down.  I was right there with him!)

I am of  “the Michael Jackson generation”.  I came of age during the height of his fame.  I cannot remember a time without him.  There was no time without him; and now just seems so wrong.  The poster above is the first poster I ever owned.  Whenever I returned to school from the states, the first thing my classmates would ask was, “Did you see Michael Jackson? Did you see Michael Jackson? Did you see Michael Jackson?”  If you were a boy, you were cooler if you had the red and black jacket; not the silver and black one.  The argument on the bus in 1984 was who was “Who was better? Prince or Michael Jackson?”  Our reward for scoring perfect on the spelling bee was going to the principal’s office to sit indian-style on the floor and watch the premiere of  “The Girl is Mine” (my favorite Michael Jackson song.  I remember being so jealous of LaToya, not knowing she was his sister! LOL).  During the adverts of Woody Woodpecker, I thumbed through the pages of my Auntie’s Jet Magazine to see the picture of Billie Jean’s baby. (I didn’t believe it for a second!)

I was sitting in my mum’s living room when she jumped to her feet when Michael did the moonwalk on Motown 20.  “The floor is one of those turning things!” I shouted.  “No, look!” she replied as he did it again.  The audience went bananas.  My mum and I were gobsmacked.  I remember thinking to myself, “He’s sold his soul to the devil!  He’s an alien!  He’s an angel!  Either way, it’s magic.”  Michael Jackson was magic, to me and to many, and our love of him made us special.  He truly had us; and like Ms. Angelou so perfectly wrote, “We Had Him”.

Thank you, God, for blessing us with him.  I take comfort in knowing that 100 years from now, his music will still be heard around the world.  He will live forever.  Thank you, Michael. (oh god!  I can’t! “Never Can Say Goodbye”  This is so hard!)  Like Jackie said to JFK, “Good night sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

One Response to “Michael Jackson”

  1. BernieR Says:

    March 27th, 2010 at 1:17 am

    ЎGracias por el artнculo. Cada vez que quieres leer.
    Gracias

    BernieR

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