I had the wind knocked out of me to find out that Michael Jackson passed away today. He was always a big part of my life, being born in 1982. I still loved him after it was not cool to like Michael Jackson anymore. Still listened to his music after people turned their back on him in the wake of the accusations of child molestation. I've bought "Thriller" a total of three times. Once on cassette, then again on CD and finally on iTunes.
I had a fedora hat. I learned how to moonwalk. I could draw a dead likeness of the King of Pop that astounded my elementary school classmates. I sat in front of the TV whenever MTV would do one of those Michael Jackson weekends. I had all of his albums, all of his unreleased cuts, and even a couple books of his poetry. This was all after his heyday, when people started criticizing him for eccentric behavior and his ever lightening skin. I didn't care. The music was what moved me, and despite any desire I had to try and be cool and like what everyone else liked, I couldn't deny the effect his genius had on me.
Recent years, he's become the butt of many jokes, and I must admit I've told a few myself, but that didn't change my love of his music, or the shock of receiving the news. It really made me reflect on how one man's life could affect so many, and how I can only dare to dream to leave a fraction of that impact on the Earth when my time has come. All I can say is I hope his passing is dealt with class by the media, even if it is hoping too much.
Goodbye, Michael Jackson. Your music meant a lot to me, and I have so many memories that go all the way back to dancing like a girl possessed in my footy pajamas.