I pondered for some time whether to write something about Michael Jackson. I feel like main stream media is saturated beyond what is good. Although I’m not devastated (far from), I have to admit that I have been moved.
It took some time to sink in. Thursday late night (European time), I read about Michael being rushed to the hospital on Twitter. My rational self told me, this is it. But the news didn’t break before I fell asleep. At about 2.00 am my sister called me from Paris and yelled that Michael Jackson had died. My long time friend, Morten, was with her in Paris and he was shocked; my sister told me that he was sitting on the pavement, almost frozen. It didn’t really sink in to me.
I have been a long time Michael Jackson fan. I was introduced to his music in the fourth or fifth grade at a party. Michael had just released the HIStory album, and I was immediately captivated. It was about the same time I met my childhood friend — also called Michael, and also with the initials MJ. In some ways, he was the closest I ever got to Michael Jackson. My friend was a real fan; he knew all the songs and he could do all the dance steps. He taught me how to do a decent moon walk. I was drawn into the world of Michael Jackson, and my friend and I would often practice songs and dance moves together. I listened to his music almost non-stop.
As time passed, this faded away. I got older — some would argue more mature — and discovered that there was more to music than just Michael. Earlier this Spring, I realized that years must had passed by since I put a Michael Jackson record on purposefully. Songs often jumped up during random iTunes play, put I hadn’t really played a record for a long time as you’d do with any other record. I started playing Bad. What a great album.
Now, Michael is gone. As I wrote earlier, it didn’t really sink in the first day or two. I think I rationally understood that the world has lost one of the greatest entertainers we have had. But what I really didn’t understand until yesterday when I saw the memorial service on TV, was that his children lost their father. The children have never really been exposed to the public — Michael has protected them from it; critics would say something different, surely.
I was moved when Paris, his daughter, took the microphone. That was what was really tough for me. I realize that people lose their loved ones all the time across the globe — and it is just as sad, I know. I just can’t help being moved when I’m exposed to it, in the way I was yesterday.
Michael was a great entertainer. I love his music — always have.
Verse from Gone Too Soon, the Dangerous album:
Born to amuse, to inspire, to delight
Here one day
Gone one night