Michael Jackson

The death of a celebrity shouldn't have affected me this way, but it did. When the news outlets finally confirmed Michael Jackson's death, my friend Sarah and I were on the phone with each other for 2 hours, consoling each other with memories, nonsense, and general exclamations of I Can't Believe Its. We played his songs to each other. Simply put, we grieved. I was fully aware of that, but I don't know how to explain how surreal it is that I was doing that for someone like Michael Jackson, who, familiar and huge as he was, was not someone I know. The last few days I've mulled over this strange fog while - yep, you guessed it - singing along to Michael's songs, and at times even dancing...

Yes, I loved his stuff when I was growing up. Yes, he was one of the most successful and excellent entertainers. Yes, we wore out that tape of his Billie Jean performance at the Motown anniversary show - when he premiered the moonwalk. Oh my gosh, what was that?! Yes, I knew every word (and I still do, apparently), to "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" and "I'll Be There." His singing was remarkable.

No, of course I didn't know him, but I sort of did. You know what I mean? It's not like losing a loved one, but it is the death of someone and the death of something. Sarah said that she wanted Michael to make one more excellent piece of music before he went; I didn't have that expectation, so it's not even that I will miss him...

Carrie Brownstein wrote: "We've never known a world without Michael Jackson," and that certainly is true for me. That's the key to the fog. Michael Jackson was on my TV, my tape player, my car, my room. I think his death was such a blow, such a strange sort of grief, a surreal feeling because he was to me, like to many others, a part of our childhood. So a part of our childhood is dead. That's unnerving. We will all die.

The shock will wear off quickly in this fast globalized high-tech 24-hr news cycle world of ours. Before it does, I highly recommend this blog post by Andrew Sullivan who takes a short but much deeper look at Michael's life.

Thanks Michael. I'm glad the best part of you lives on and I can crank it up and dance to it whenever I want.