Michael Joseph Jackson
"Smile" was one of his favorite songs. ::sigh:: So this is my re-intro to blogging. It's been a few years since I bothered. I suppose it's good to document as events happen, kinda like hitting the rewind button on the dvd player of your life when you scroll back through old posts. Enough small talk. Welcome back me. Thank you :). I'll obviously write about my life in general, but this first one, is dedicated to one person...
So as the entire world knows, last Thursday, June 25th, 2009, Michael Jackson was struck down by cardiac arrest and never woke from his coma. Many say he was medicated to death by (a) bad-habit-enabling doctor(s), others say that the cardiac arrest was brought on by a long battle with anorexia nervosa and bulimia. However, what I do know for certain, is that he was deeply, deeply lonely. He would've gladly done a hari kari to save his own children from pain. A large part of him was still very much a child. A part of him was spoiled rotten lol, while an equal part of him was so dumbfoundingly selfless, that it was painful to witness. He was not perfect, or without fault. But he was/is BEAUTIFUL to me. Yes. I said beautiful. Now he's gone forever and my soul truly mourns him.
He touched my life. From my beginning moments; for as far back as I can remember, he has been a major portion of the things that I cherish and hold dear. I was a toddler, dancing in front of the tv as MTV played "Billie Jean". When I was 4 years old, my friend Jasmine from across the street came over with a VHS tape of "Moonwalker". My jaw fell at the sight of him. I was that young. He danced and I was floored. He smiled and I blushed from an action of the opposite sex for the first time in my young life lol. That afternoon watching "Moonwalker" in my living room, I fell in love. I saw Michael, and I saw pure magic, and even though I was THAT young, I knew no one would ever be like him.
Then I grew older. My love for music and dance grew, as did my appreciation for him. I came into my teenage years and his music was still a major part of my life. He was no longer the trend of choice. He was androgynous, he had a tough streak about him but was by no means the tough guy, and was as sensitive as the sky is wide. I found his rejection of the norm beautiful, and his cast iron resolve to not let go of his innocence pulled me in deeper still. I guess you can say that I like men that are p-ssies, but not really lol, because they aren't afraid to shed blood for what they believe in or to protect what they love.
As a young adult, I become more active in seeking him out. A good friend of mine came about some tickets to a party that Michael was throwing at his Neverland Valley Ranch, and she was gracious enough to invite me along. I lived in a dream world that night, literally. It didn't seem like it was really happening, even when I look back on it now, it's sooooo surreal. As we were leaving, we ran into him as he was leaving his house. It was about 1am, he was wearing black pj's and white sox lol. I hugged him and thanked him for his generosity; he squeezed me like an old friend. Our eyes met for a few moments and then he broke eye contact and looked at his feet and my face went all warm. I was four years old sitting in my living room all over again. I was strangely comfortable standing there in front of him, I'd always thought I'd be a ball of nerves if I should ever meet him, but it felt oddly natural. I still remember how he looked as he sprinted across the damp grass in his sox lol. He looked like a 12 year old that was caught staying up to late and made a mad dash for his room; it still makes me smile when I think about it ^_^. Yet and still, I was in awe of him, and so very, very thankful for the night that he allowed me to have.
In Las Vegas at the Aladdin Hotel (now Planet Hollywood) Michael did a signing/meet-and-greet at the Art & Music store. The cost for this event was about 3g's a head. That kind of money, Olive did not have lol. But I had plenty of patience. So my small group of fan friends and I waited for hours in a barricaded area around the store. The crowd eventually grew to an almost out of control number, but we were right up front. He came out and greeted us; he signed a book of his poems and short stories for me. As he was about to leave, in the middle of a manic crowd, I asked to hug him. Without hesitation he wrapped one arm around my waist and placed his other hand on the back of my head. I know he didn't know me by name, but he hugged me like he missed me. I said in his ear "this world needs you Michael"; he grabs my face with his large hand, kissed my cheek and left my arms. And just like that, he disappeared again into a mesh of human bodies and flashbulbs. It was one of the sweetest moments of my life so far.
Then the allegations came against him. Again. He swore to fight and prove his innocence, which he did. And I'm proud to say that I was there, outside of the courthouse and inside of it on a few occasions (I was inside the courtroom when Gavin got on the witness stand and accused Michael of all of this garbage). I told myself I'd have to look at this case objectively, because what if this man that I adored really was guilty? After weighing the evidence without bias, it was obvious that he didn't do these things. He was guilty of some shitty judgement calls, but never of wronging children. In front of Neverland from his SUV window, he grasped my hand and pleaded. "I'm innocent, I'm being blackmailed. Please believe me, I could never harm a child. Please believe me, I'm innocent..." It hurt me, not only that this extraordinarily generous man was being flat-out railroaded, but that he felt the need to BEG for the confidence of essentially a stranger on the side of the road. I knew he couldn't have ever harmed anyones child, and that I really did love him. I never pursued him as a groupie would, but I did want to take care of him, to be his sympathetic ear, to cure his loneliness, to show him that even though he wasn't traditionally attractive by male standards, he would always be beautiful to me. Color me cliche, but his heart shone through his eyes, and he had my heart all along.
As the trial wore on, contact with him became more and more scarce. I had a 30 second call on speakerphone courtesy of a certain friend's cell, but other than talking to him briefly at the front gate contact was kept to a minimum. His appearance showed the stress he was under as the months rolled by. At the end of it all, we were so proud/relieved at his triumph. But the change in him was noticeable. He disappeared overseas for a few years, until news of him being Los Angeles spread like the plague. He planned to do a string of concerts, and I was ready to go wherever he decided to put them on; no if's, and's or booty's. That awe-struck four year old that still lives inside of me let go of any possibility of seeing Michael in concert. But here was my chance! Somehow this was going to happen and I was over the moon at the possibilities. I'd waited my entire life to see him dance in front of me, to be there to hear him sing, to share in the celebration of his return to the stage. My friends that were with me in the dream once called Neverland, standing next to me in the trenches in Vegas, would be with me there in London. I spent a stupid amount of money on 6th row center seats to the show of the century lol, money well spent I must say. It was gonna be an all out love fest that was looooong overdue. But it would never come to pass, and this precious man succumbed to the pressure. He was only 50 years, and he left behind 3 gorgeous children that knew nothing but their father's love.
Besides the fact that I was 2 weeks away from my childhood dream coming to fruition. This wonderful man that somehow wove his life into mine, has left me with a weeping soul and a hole in my heart the size of Texas. I didn't love the idea of him, or his celebrity. I loved him, with all his short-comings and faults, and his grandeur and mystery. I cry for him now as I type, because his feet will never light up the stage before me, he'll never grab my hand and look me in the eyes to say "I love you more" again. He'll never squeeze me again. He'll never sing again. He'll never kiss my cheek again. I'm not irrational or naive; I never believed he'd ride up to me on a giraffe and sweep me off to Neverland or anything like that lol. My love for him was genuine. I loved the man that he was, and the man that he never grew to be. I treasured his music, and was thrilled and inspired by his talent. I loved his gracious heart and his vulnerability. I loved his strength and forgave his weaknesses. I'm so grateful for his generosity towards me, and the memories he gave me are invaluable. He's gone now, and the pain is acute and immense.
My only comfort is that maybe now, he can really see how much he meant. He can feel how his music made me feel. He can see the inspiration that he gave me throughout the years. He can see how much the little black girl from southern cali loved him, and wanted to see him find his happiness. I know one day, this ache in my chest will finally start to ebb and every time I think of you I'll smile. But I will miss you. Always. All I can do is say thank you Michael, for everything you gave me. Whenever I dance, you can dance with me now. And when I sing, the song of your legacy will be in my heart. I'll love you forever.
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