While my logical mind understands how this could happen given his age and health condition, my visceral reaction upon learning of his cardiac arrest was shock and disbelief. I honestly kept hoping it was just another one of tee em zee's fake news stories. Then when CNN and the rest kept saying they wouldn't believe Michael's death until a reputable news source confirmed it I still clung to hope this was some sick internet rumor. We are always hearing false rumors of so-and-so's death which they usually take to the blogs to debunk. Unfortunately, this one turned out to be true.
Whatever the results of the autopsy (and I do not believe the truth is always released in these celebrity autopsies), I will always believe Michael died because he worked himself to death. The stress of trying to earn the money to pay all those debts drove him to push himself too far. He wanted so much to give the fans a good show when he could have just phoned it in. Honestly, most of those fans would have been thrilled just to be in his presence even if he could not dance as vigorously as he did in his youth. Michael was delicate and his body just couldn't take it. He was 50 years old and rehearsing for 6-7 hours per day for 5 to 6 days a week. His body just could not withstand that punishment.
Michael--and I have always felt like I am on a first name basis with him--was the entertainer he was the greatest in my opinion. This man sold out 50 shows. I envied those ticket holders because I have wished for a long time I could have seen that Victory tour or the HIStory tour. Way before London's O2 I loved Thriller, owned it on vinyl, cassette, and later CD and Mp3. I knew every word, every step to the Thriller dance. I can remember people breaking out into mass Thriller dances at parties before people really did the Electric Slide, the Cha Cha Slide, or the Macarena. How many little kids owned a single sequined glove and white socks because of him? How many people, children and adults, secretly practiced their moonwalk to be more like Mike? Thriller still sells over 130,000 copies every year in the United States alone more than 27 years after its release. It is the biggest selling record of all time in the WORLD. It has gone more than 20 times platinum. Let that sink in for a moment.
I owned the Off the Wall and the Thriller posters, but the first one I had, my favorite was the one with the yellow sweater. If you really know Michael, you know the poster I'm talking about. Prince vs. Michael rivalries almost reached the level of the Bloods and Crips in some areas. Some people were serious about their Michael.
I remember being embarassed by all his crotch grabbing in BAD. I remember wondering why he seemed to hate his blackness so much when Black people loved him and I adored him. There was nothing wrong with his nose, his skin, his hair. Michael was idolized by Black girls, white girls, Hispanics, Japanese, Europeans, Africans...everyone loved Michael. People in other countries seemed to exhalt him even more than his fans in the U.S. That scene in Roll Bounce where Sweetness makes X's little sister faint by touching a kiss to her cheek? Michael could do that just by stepping out of a car or belting out a note. I have read countless accounts of teenaged girls fainting from excitement at his appearances.
I remember being horrified at the molestation trials. The mere thought that Michael could have possibly done any of those things he was accused of doing. Why would a grown man want to have play dates and sleep in the bed with children? Why wasn't I invited to the Neverland Ranch? (Come on, a lot of you wondered what the ranch was like.) Honestly, the reports of Jesus Juice shocked me as much as the reports of the sleepovers. I never really thought of Michael as the kind of man who would drink alcohol or kiss a woman. Even though millions of young girls--and, let's face it, young boys--had romantic crushes on Michael, he still remained virginal in the minds of most. I was equally appalled by his supposed "relationships" with Brooke Shields (he said they were just friends), LisaMarie Pressley, Debbie Rowe, and Diana Ross (is she or isn't she "Dirty Diana"?). How could Michael let us down with these strange and most probably fake unions?
I was unbelieving when I heard he had fathered children. I still don't believe he sired them in the age old way, but today I understand for the first time he fathered them nonetheless. In the midst of my own personal grief over his passing, a part of awakened to the realization he has left three fatherless children whom he no doubt loved and identified with very much; I'm certain their bond was an unusually strong one given his childlike demeanor and wide-eyed innocence.
Michael exasperated me with his spendthrift ways, constant legal troubles, and strange preoccupations. The Elephant Man, Webster, the hyperbaric chamber, the plastic surgery, the traditional Arab women's dress, and the unlikely alliances (Nation of Islam, UAE and Bahrain benefactors) tried my patience time and again, but I never gave up on him. And Michael never gave up on us, his fans.
He died trying to give back to the world. His legacy lives on in the performers he inspired. Many of today's big stars modeled themselves on his dancing and singing style. There would be no Chris Brown, Usher, or Justin Timberlake, to name a few, without Michael Jackson. The Jackson 5, great though they were, would be just a footnote in Old School music had it not been for Michael. Janet, who is phenomenally talented in her own right, would not have had such a successful career if her older brother had not paved the way. Michael inspired and touched so many souls the world over, I can't help but think the world is a bit heavier today with all the tears shed by his mourners. My own father, who is as stoic as Brutus ever was, choked up when reminiscing about Michael last night.
Michael, you are loved and you will be missed. For a moment my life paused yesterday, but now it is time to rise up and celebrate his life. I plan on watching his videos, looking at old pictures, and dusting off my old vinyl to sing along with my favorite performer of all time. Join me if you want to:
You are not alone
I am here with you
Though you're far away
I am here to stay
You are not alone
I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart
You are not alone
For I am here with you
Though you're far away
I am here to stay
For you are not alone
For I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart
Rest in peace.
---Wild Safari
