So Long, Michael Jackson

Edition #120 — July 7, 2009

Seven years ago today, July 7, 2002, Michael Jackson signed his last will and testament. Today, my 120th newsletter came out. Coincidence? Okay, maybe not. But the fact that his memorial and funeral were held today certainly is a fine piece of cosmic timing. I've been following the aftermath of Michael Jackson death pretty closely and wanted to share some of my own thoughts about this unique, talented and odd human being.

No musical entertainer can ignore the presence of such a truly gifted individual as what Michael Jackson was in his prime. His contributions were felt everywhere in the entertainment industry. He broke records and set the performance standard for all who followed in his moon walking footsteps. And I suspect that few will ever meet that standard.

Admittedly, I was always more of a James Brown and Prince fan - two equally electrifying performers. But Michael took all of that soulful energy and discipline and brought it over to the white kids. And after that, he took it around the world. Michael connected the disparate dots of human culture, from Japan to Africa to the Middle East and Russia, and they all loved him for the same reason that we did. His gifts made the world seem a lot smaller and more friendly. We had something in common, all of us.

A Different Kind Of Man


Michael Jackson was definitely not a masculine presence in the world. With his thin frame and childlike voice and demeanor, he did not exude an adult sexuality as his contemporaries did. Perhaps this made him at once safer and more accessible to a younger audience. I think that he also represented a new kind of cultural hero - like the runt of the litter who becomes top dog but remains both weak and vulnerable. Michael Jackson was the antithesis of masculine virtues, thereby transcending his gender. And man, could he dance.

At his peak, no one could touch Michael Jackson's mastery of performance, pop music creation and being able to draw money and attention to himself. Yes, there were questionably more important and more talented artists, but they were also adult entertainers. Michael Jackson was the voice and hero of children and the child in all of us. This was the key that unlocked so many doors for him around the world. Michael Jackson sang about life as a child pretending to be "Bad" or "Dangerous." He never could have played these roles in real life. That his memorial will be broadcast worldwide demonstrates that he really did inspire the child in many, many people. He was someone who embodied and embraced the child within, throughout his life, for better or worse.

I think what people want to remember is how good it felt to watch Michael Jackson perform at the very peak of his career. There was a time when the image was perfect - not only was he a beautiful physical being, but his performing ability stood out as being both unique and exceptional - the moonwalk, his rubber-like flexibility, the flawless execution and his drive for perfection. That is what many of us cling to - his perfect moment in time.

A Long, Slow Unraveling

I think that we aspire to be our favorite heroes. When we admire someone, we see a little of ourselves in that person - or something that we want to become. For Michael Jackson's fans, this feeling began to unravel when his physical appearance no longer held its former appeal. While his talent remained unchanged, his face no longer complimented it. He was beginning to turn into that ghoulish looking fiend in Thriller, and there were dark stirrings coming from his private life that dared us to pretend that he was still that perfected human being that we'd hoped. His public denial over multiple plastic surgeries made other denials equally doubtful in the minds of many.

Furthermore, his artistic credibility now seemed at the mercy of maintaining his stellar commercial success. Instead of being an artist he became a commodity. And once that happened, people noticed and stopped buying as many records as they had before. And with his personal life becoming even more unfamiliar and even bizarre, he became someone that we no longer aspired to be. We no longer recognized Michael. And yet, there was always that glimmer of hope for redemption, which his comeback concerts in London's O2 arena represented. I think we wanted to be blown away and put in our place for doubting him all these years. It looked to have become a colossal enterprise, something well worth seeing and probably remembering, too. It would have had to be, otherwise we would have eaten him up even more.

The Final Farewell

Years ago the media were talking about Michael's career being over, and that all we had to look forward to was witnessing his long descend into self destructive weirdness. Well, I guess that has happened if the reports of his overdose are true. Even Liza Minneli said, and I paraphrase, that it is best that we pay loving tribute to Michael now, for when the autopsy results come back, our bubble of illusion will burst. Others, including Deepak Chopra and Uri Geller have talked about their confrontations with his prescription drug use. That he was found dead with a surgical anesthetic nearby is a good sign that life behind the scenes was far less appealing than we may ever know. But my feeling is that one or more doctors are going to jail for manslaughter, or may lose their license to practice.

In a way, it is best that this memorial happened today, for at sixty Michael's beautiful legacy might have become even more scarred by time. I do hope that his kids grow up to be healthy, happy people. Ultimately, Michael Jackson's story is far more complex than any outsider or perhaps even an insider can ever fathom. It seems to be about both love and hate - the love that he had for his art and the hatred that he seemed to feel for his own image in the mirror. Surgically, it seems that he couldn't do enough to get rid of himself. Until now.

As for my collage image above, Brooke Shields did say in her eulogy that Michael loved to laugh and be teased. Well, in that spirit I suspect he'll have a good chuckle over my contribution.

Good bye, Michael. I hope to see you perform live some day.


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