What does it mean when you hear people say, I grew up with Michael Jackson? I'll tell you.It means your bedroom walls were plastered in Michael Jackson pin-up posters; you collected all his 45s which cost $1.15 each back then and stencilled your initials on the labels; you sketched his face; you played Rockin' Robin endlessly and watched Ed Sullivan appearances with awe and excitement. Later you made clothes sporting his name or The Jacksons and paraded them up town on Friday night; you danced alone or with friends or crooned along with tracks from the best ever album, Off The Wall.
It would all seem a long time ago until you have a daughter who is genetically programmed to react the very same way. The albums are hauled out. A needle sought for the disused stylus and after much searching, located at a specialist hi-fi shop. We watch the Ed Sullivan shows on DVD; the many Carol Burnett show appearances on YouTube. She sings, dances, mimics Michael - up on the table, tilting her hat, bending the knee and pointing the toe. So many hats she collects that match his different styles at different times. She adores him. Just the way I had.
She came home from school yesterday and said a friend had said she was glad Michael Jackson was dead because she didn't like him. Why? Because her mum didn't like him. All that weird stuff, you know.
Give me my sweet pea's pleasure over the cynic's pain any day.
So my girl and me put on the Bucharest Tour DVD last night and marvelled together all over again. Marvellous, magical, over-the-top, pushing-it-to-the max, Michael. Thank you.
5 comments:
I think this Hollywood/ Pop star/ narcissist syndrome has almost run its race.
Making icons of people who act contrary to all standards of decency is one reason the welfare subculture you complain of so often is thriving.
Michael Jackson may have been a gifted musician once, but he developed into a depraved and insane paedophile. Showed contempt for family values.
That some idolise Jackson in a way others could never allow themselves to do, says a lot about the cultural divisions in Western society.
I watched a program on the death of Buddy Holly a night or two ago. He was long before my time, but I could not help but be impressed by what a fine person he was and what fine people he was working with.
Things have sure changed.
Eccentricity and weirdness aside, Michael Jackson was a fantastic performer and entertainer.
I couldn't believe my eyes the first time I saw the "moonwalk".
He was smacked as a child, BTW. So is smacking more likely to produce individuals capable of taking personal responsibility or "depraved and insane paedophiles"? You be the judge. RIP MJ.
Another Anonymous genius gets it 100% wrong: the poor guy was not *smacked* as a child; he was beaten by a monster. Spare us from the language revisionists -- and/or the truly stupid.
"Give me my sweet pea's pleasure over the cynic's pain any day."
I love that. And I loved the post. Substitute MJ for the Bay City Rollers (yes, really!) and you've just described my sister, friends and me aged 13, 14ish. :)
Sus: Another truly suss post. Nice work. Keep it coming.
- Anon
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