I fell in love with him I think at 13. Maybe it was 10. It could have been 8. All I know is that after the Thriller album came out and I saw Michael Jackson’s cute self on that album cover…you couldn’t tell me that won’t my future husband. (Sorry Al B., that was before you boo.)
Yes, honey, I wore the red and black leather “thriller” jacket. Yes, I put way too much baby oil in my hair so I could look like Olah Ray in the Thriller video. Yes, there was a time in my life that I let my “soul glow” for Michael Jackson.
One of my fondest family memories was going to the Victory tour. It was fond for me because my parents knew how much I loooved MJ, and they moved heaven and Earth to make sure I got to go. I was so excited! It just so happened, we showed up to the stadium and it started pouring down raining. They cancelled the show and my dad caught a cold. The day of the reschedule, because my dad was sick, my mom took me.
Now, we must understand something here. I may have been in looooove with Michael Jackson. But I was not going to embarrass myself by acting a fool in front of company. I was simply too cool for that. I had on my jacket. I had my Olah Ray hair and I danced, sang and clapped politely. My mom was the one screaming and cutting up and doing everything that a normal 8 or 10 or 13 year old should have been doing at the time. I shook my head at her. She had a blast. That was the only time I ever actually went to a MJ show and it didn’t matter to me that I had to put up with his sharing the stage with his brothers. I think what made that show so special is that my mom and I, (whom we’ve already established have had a long history of strain in our relationship) have a memory together that will last for as long as I’m alive. She took me to my first and last Michael Jackson concert and we had a blast.
On all accounts, Michael Jackson was an inspiration in every musical way. It was the high tone of his voice. It was the way he danced. It was the Olah Ray hair. It was just everything that we’ve seen duplicated in some form or fashion by newer artists for the last 20+ years.
Last night, I dropped Aubrei off at my parents and on my way to and from their house, I heard every Michael Jackson record I’ve fallen in love with over the course of my entire childhood and adult life: I Can’t Help It; Billy Jean; Thriller; Bad; She’s Out of My Life; Off The Wall; Butterflies; Liberian Girl… The list can literally go one for weeks. Michael Jackson made music that stays with you. It sinks in and becomes a part of your life experience. He was a star at age 5, a gagillionaire, lived on a fantasy ranch and had a pet monkey named Bubbles. But when he wrote songs, he could have been any one of us, living any one of our lives. Michael Jackson was an amazing, amazing talent.
Lest we forget, the last decade or so of Michael Jackson’s life were dogged by controversy. Besides the ranch and Bubbles and the oxygen chamber and the face mask. He drastically changed his appearance after he was so perfect on the cover of ‘Thriller’. Remember when ‘Bad’ came out and his skin was damn near invisible in the daylight, he was so pale? And the chin thing? Then when he over did the nose, that was just…ugh. Plus, that whole Emanuel Lewis and Corey Feldman thing that no one can explain. *sigh* Of course the baby (named)”Blanket” over the balcony thing was odd too. There were just so many things that were odd about him after while. I think we stopped counting.
Musically, we forgave him his eccentricities, but when the whole “Jesus juice” thing came out, that was our last straw. We may have still loved Michael Jackson’s music, but we could not forgive him for what he may or may not have done to the children who accused him of horrible things. Nobody protested when Martin Bashir on national televison, made MJ out to be a total freak and I would venture to say it was because of our own fear that one of “our” greatest talents may actually be a freak, we fell back from the Michael Jackson bandwagon for a really long while.
Michael Jackson, the never dethroned King of Pop, became like that uncle nobody talks about– lest he show up to the family picnic drunk and ornery, threatening to expose to all of us and to the family picnicking next to us, every one of our ever dysfunctional family secrets.
Like all of us, Michael Jackson was not a perfect man. Like all of us do, he made mistakes. But not one of those mistakes could diminish his contribution to International music and culture. White, Black, Brown, Yellow, Orange with purple polka dots. Every country in every nation has heard of and more than likely grooved to a Michael Jackson jam. That is far greater than significant. He and his family have influenced entertainment in ways that are unintelligible. We will never know all the ways and that is amazing.
With all of that said, Death is a powerful thing. The most interesting thing I found in watching yesterday’s events unfold, is how we were able to transform our many years of indifference and maybe disgust toward Michael, to our chorus of devastation. Loads of us cried. Loads of us sat stuck in our office chairs as we navigated through news accounts, holding our breath as we tried to make sense of what was being said (or not said). Michael Jackson dead? Impossible. It was almost as though, we had been through so much with him. We had seen him grow up in front of us, we had danced our first slow drag or kissed our first tongue kiss to one of his songs. We learned how to moon walk because of him. We wore Olah Ray Hair for God’s sake. He could not possibly be “human” enough to die a regular person’s death. Not cardiac arrest. And certainly not at 50. Michael was supposed to die a glamorous death, like that priest in ‘Angels and Demons’. As eccentric as he was, his death was not supposed to be so abrupt and certainly not so normal-esque.
If there is any beauty in his passing, I would venture to say it’s how his memory now sits with each of us. All at once, our indifference (and maybe disgust) has melted and his legacy has become his musical contribution to the world, instead of whatever about him we thought odd. I don’t know about you, but I did go to iTunes last night and bought a few of my faves that I never got around to buying before. I’ve been listening to “I Can’t Help It” over and over since yesterday. That was my way of sending Michael Jackson flowers. That was my way of saying “thank you” for the red and black leather “Thriller” jacket and the Olah Ray hair. Too bad he wasn’t alive when he got them.
There is an old saying that I’d like to paraphrase here: ‘send your loved ones flowers while they’re still around to smell them.’
Maybe there is a lesson in losing Michael Jackson. I can’t say for sure, but maybe if we did a better job at showing him how much we loved and appreciated him, maybe… I dunno. God always has a plan greater than we can imagine. Mike lived the life of his choosing and his passing all too soon is so sad. I do know though, I have a few family members of my own I need to call, thank, and maybe send some flowers to.
The moral of this story? No idea. Just some food for thought. Thank you for reading this though. Peace, Blessings, and may Michael Jackson, The Undisputed King of Pop, Rest Forever In Peace. -e-
Long Live the red and black leather jacket!