25 June 2009


I got home around 5:00 p.m. Mish told me that Michael Jackson had a heart attack. I started Googling. When I got internet confirmation that MJ experienced cardiac arrest (which is more serious than a heart attack), I immediately started crying.

I called Mom. She is one of few people who knows how much MJ means to me. We have a family rule - if you don't want a knock-down, drag-out fight, you don't say anything even approaching negative about MJ. The last fist fight I was in was about MJ. Someone said something about him being a child molester. I took a swing, then another, until my at-the-time boyfriend restrained me. NO ONE on this Earth will ever be able to convince me that he ever molested those kids. Don't even try. Seriously; don't.

Mom reminded me that all I could do was pray. So I did. A lot. Hard. Then Mish told me that TMZ was reporting his death. I refreshed the Google News page so much it accused me of being a bot and I had to verify my human-ness.

I am alternating between complete denial (I just told Kate that I'm waiting for the story that it's all a mistake) and sobbing hysterically.

I just posted the lyrics to one of my favourite songs of his, "Childhood." I believe this to be his more emotionally honest, autobiographical songs. When people try to tell me how "weird" he is, I point them to that song.

Kate just asked me what about him made him so important to me. I think it's a few things. The most simplistic is that he was my first vinyl. "Thriller," if you must know. Even at a young age, I recognised genius - musical, lyrical, dancing genius. Pure, unadulterated genius.

But part of me also "got" him - at least inasmuch as one can get a person who one has never met. He had a fucked up childhood; so did I. He was robbed of his childhood; so was I. But he capitalised on his talent, and he went on to become succesful despite all of that. So, to a child who grew up with alcoholics, abusive parents, and bad role models all around - that was inspiring.

Some of his songs touched my soul. Some of his music lifted my spirits no matter my mood. Some of his lyrics made me cry.

I've said before that I tend to collect the homeless puppies. Even though he was much beloved by millions of people, I think he was my first homeless puppy.

The world has suffered an enormous loss.

I hope that he is at peace, something he rarely got in his life. I hope that he may rest now, with the serenity and dignity that is due him.

1 comment:

  1. I think what sucks most on this planet is that it seems to take extaordinary personal pain to bring out extra ordinary talent and genius.