The King is dead, long live the King.
Like everyone else, I was stunned to hear that Michael Jackson had died. You see, I grew up with Michael Jackson, back in that dim, distant age when little girls had a love affair with AM radio and it's stars. When we used to rush to the record store to buy the latest released 45 for 99 cents, saved up out of our allowance (or baby sitting money). Michael and I were of an age and we grew up together.
First there was the Jackson Five, of course, but we all knew who the real star was, who was the one that shone the brightest. ABC, I'll Be There, Give Me One More Chance. Even then we knew that Willard was a sappy movie but how we loved to hear Michael croon Ben.
I grew up and so did Michael and the future seemed to be filled with endless possibilities. Thriller helped launch that wondrous new phenomenon, MTV. Beat It, Billie Jean, Wanna Be Startin' Something blew us all away, as much for the dancing as for the music. Life was filled with joy and no one was more joyous than Michael. Bad, The Way You Make Me Feel, Man In The Mirror, Dirty Diana, Smooth Criminal, Leave Me Alone, Another Part Of Me, Jam, Heal The World, In The Closet, Remember The Time, Black Or White, Who Is It, Will You Be There.
Do you think Michael felt a twinge when he sang Gone Too Soon? Probably not, because we were all so alive, so filled with sunshine, that there were no shadows.
But for every brilliant morning and sparkling afternoon there is a twilight and an encroaching darkness. Even though Michael wanted to be Peter Pan (and who did not?), the world at large began to fill our horizons and adult concerns helped wipe away the innocence of childhood. More complicated emotions came home to roost. Who am I? Who really loves me? Why do they love me? Am I worthy of that love? What do they really want?
Michaels life reflected the pinnacle of success and the depths of tabloid scandal. Instead of living the fantasy, he was now the object of others fantasies and desires. And they pursued him relentlessly, like the most fervid hounds, teeth razor sharp, eyes never leaving their prey, not for an instant. They tore him to pieces, left his dignity and privacy in shreds and like the fierce monsters that they are, demanded more and more and more until at last, there was nothing left.
Nothing left but that God-given talent and the desire to please. And that was almost enough. Can you see what a Herculean effort that was? Talent seems to be both a blessing and a curse, the more blessed with talent, the greater the curse. It took a lot of courage just to BE Michael Jackson, to smile and appear to let the hurt and gossip and rumours bounce off, when inside they wounded so deeply.
And so I was filled with sadness when I heard that Michael had died. Filled with respect that he had survived so long, against so much and that his light still shone in the darkness. It was a long and painful journey, those years from ten to fifty, for all of us. But most especially for him.
So tonight, say a prayer for the soul of Michael Jackson, that he may finally rest in peace. He certainly deserves it.