michael

Another email in response to a whole bunch of emails about Michael Jackson. The picture was the beginning of this journey.

I have different twist on the Michael Jackson thing, so bear with me.
At one point on our journey through the rock and roll hall of fame we walked around a corner and came face to face with the jacket he wore during the filming of Thriller, not to mention a few other articles, including a rotating bejeweled glove in a glass case.
But that Thriller jacket pumped adrenaline into my sister and me. The more we talked about it, the more excited we got, which caught on with our kids. It touched off lots of discussion, mostly questions from Jack. His vision of Michael Jackson came from terrible jokes and media spin. MJ is the guy whose nose fell off. The guy who sleeps with little boys, dangles babies out windows and went through some sort of controversial medical procedures to make himself white.
Later in the grand hall of the museum we watched a film chronicling all the inductees. When the Jackson 5 came on, and little 8 year old Michael COMMANDED the stage, Jack was floored. I think at that moment he realized the butt of all those jokes was a real person. We went back to my sister's house that night, fired up her computer and watched about an hour worth of MJ material, including the full length Thriller video and a 6 minute dance montage that is honestly one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. For the next week, Michael was a constant theme in our daily routine. We talked about him, tried to dance like him, watched his videos and listened to his music. Seriously, it was a journey for Jack, pushing all his preconceived knowledge to the side and discovering the real talent and the real issues of a human being. Exactly one week after setting eyes on the Thriller jacket, Jack got a text message saying "that freak Michael Jackson is dead". I won't lie, I had to bite my lip for a second. For seven days I had relived what a huge role his music played in my life, watched my kid process the beauty of creativity and the torment of human struggle and shared it all with my sister and niece. It was a beautiful, really.
Yeah, people can go overboard mourning a person they never knew, and deep down I believe the people who tried to own a little bit of MJ every day partially fueled his dysfunctional life. In the end I think the poor guy just plain died of a broken, misunderstood heart. But the guy evoked emotion, which is a hell of a characteristic in my book. And man, could that SOB dance. RIP Michael.