The King Of Pop

I've taken some time thinking about a blog entry about the passing of Michael Jackson. I really needed to think about what MJ meant to ME and not just what he meant in general, although that meaning is bigger than all of us.

When I was a kid it seemed like I was only really aware of a few musical entities: The Beatles (thanks dad), Madonna, and Michael Jackson. Sure, there were others. I grew up watching MTV. But I knew Michael Jackson. I can remember watching the full length Thriller video on MTV repeatedly in my youth. In fact, this may have been my first exposure to the "dark" things that would shape the rest of my life. I would always hide my eyes when he became a werewolf. And again when he became a zombie. And again when all the zombies came after the girl in that creepy house in the woods.

It was so fucking good I still can't believe how good it was. Come to think of it, I think MJ was my first exposure to African-Americans (before he turned white). A famous story floats around my family, involving me, my grandparents, and a trip to Kenny Kings. One of the cooks came out to give us our food and I told him he looked like Michael Jackson. This simply had to do with the fact that he was black. He had about 100 pounds on MJ and much darker skin. Hey, don't call me racist. I had to have been only about 6 or so.

And then I remember watching the world premier of the video for Black of White. Macaulay Culkin was in it. And it ruled.

Two days ago I was driving in the car, flipping through radio stations, and they were playing Man in the Mirror. And I will not deny that I openly wept. While singing my heart out. I'm sure it was a sight to see.

The bottom line is that a music icon died. Before his time. Forget the criminal activity and weirdness: this man is a legend. And he's dead. And if you're of a certain age, he affected your life in some way or another. And he's dead.

A friend of mine is about to have a baby and that baby will know a world without MJ. This is weird to me only because I have known him my entire life. I knew him at his prime, and his downfall. But I knew him. And Baby Girl Gruden never will. Not the way I did.

I weep for future generations that will never take the time learn. I weep for those that will only hear the subversive things about him. I weep because I am sad that he's gone.

No one will ever sing like him. No one will ever dance like him. No one will ever be like MJ.

And I weep.