[img]396|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img]On the day that Michael Jackson died, I was in Vermont, on vacation with friends. I was on the couch, reading The South Beach Diet (that’s a foreshadow of next week’s column), and my friend Paul came out of his bedroom. He said, “Guess what? Michael Jackson died!” I said some bad words meaning, “Come now, I don’t believe what you are telling me!” But I only said three words, which I cannot print here.
I was, and still am, in shock. Listen, we all knew Farrah was near her end, and we were more or less ready for it. I have been mentally preparing for Prince’s demise for years, hoping to soften the blow when it comes. But Michael Jackson?! He’s the King of Pop! One of the Jackson 5! He’s bad! You know it!
Sure, we hadn’t seen much of him since those abuse allegations a few years ago. He was going to put items up for auction, but then pulled out. Neverland Ranch is a far cry from its glory days. But I didn’t expect him to die.
A Defining Moment
I remember listening to Off the Wall and Thriller in the early ‘80s. Every song had a great beat, and boy, could that man dance! When music videos first came out, I loved watching Michael Jackson dance, doing that toe-point move, where he pulls up his black pants to reveal white socks. Not to mention the Moon Walk. What a defining moment in the world of dance! Who does that? A move in which a dancer looks like he’s stepping forward, when he’s actually moving backward?
My roommate and I got into the Jackson 5 when we were in college. We used to bop around singing “ABC, 123” at the top of our lungs. And who could forget “Ben”, Michael’s love song to a rat? Last year at my 40th birthday party, I put “Wanna be Startin’ Somethin’” on my playlist. At the end of it, I tore my heels off and stomped the floor with each beat. Nothing feels as good as bare feet while screaming, “Mama say mama sa, mama ma koo sa!”
How to Become an Underdog
I’ve always felt sad for MJ. He was beaten as a child, and made to sing ballads written for men to sing. Did he even know what he was singing? The thing is, he was really good! Have you ever really listened to little Michael singing “Who’s Lovin’ You?” No? Okay. Stop reading for a second, go download that song, listen to it, and come back. I’ll wait.
Back? So what’d you think? Did you hear those high notes, especially the last one at the end? The boy had talent, no doubt. And the young man had talent. And the older man had an identity crisis, and was stunted in his emotional development. He grew up with fame and fortune in a world of grownups. He didn’t know how to grow up. And he tried to hold on, but he couldn’t. Rest in peace, Michael Jackson. You will be missed.
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at campbellalexandra@hotmail.com
