I like Michael Jackson.
I do. Sometimes I love him. Always I feel sorry for him.
I just can't help it. I hear that motorcycle rev at the beginning of 'The Way You Make Me Feel,' and I'm lost. Even my daughter can "Ooh!" and "Sha-kaw!" at the appropriate moments of that song. It's her favorite. Kaje is a 'Man in the Mirror' type of child. What can I say -- he's socially conscious. I love early Jackson 5 and especially the 'Thriller' era. I could watch him spin for.ev.er. For that matter, I could watch the music video to 'Thriller' nine million times and never get tired of it.
I confess all this because last night The Double B closed at work and I got to watch the Redbox DVD I have been waiting for -- 'Michael Jackson's This Is It.' I watched the film before the honey got home, he would have hated it. He doesn't really enjoy Michael's music. In fact, in the car it is often a competition who rules the radio -- if he's in, it's ESPN News. If me and the midgets are in, it's often 'The Essential Michael Jackson.' Flip, switch, flip, switch. He's good to drive to. It makes the trip go faster.
By the time The Double B got home, I was watching the special features (my favorite, favorite part of any movie). And surprisingly, the husband sat and watched with me. I was kind of touched, because he'd say things like "He looks so scary -- look, he looks like Frankenstein there! Hm... that makes me sad." Or, "I think you're right, he must have felt so terrible about himself. Why would he do that? He was a nice-looking person." And "Wow, he was really talented. It must be hard to be in that position." For once he wasn't caught up in the lynch-mob that is the male force in my neighborhood if you breath the word "Michael." He was looking at a human being, recognizing their genius, and feeling compassion for their plight. It made me love my husband even more.
Here's the thing about Michael Jackson -- if he really was a child molester, he's already in big, big trouble and there's nothing that condones that. I would despise him if I really thought he was. I just don't think he was. I think he was a weird guy who couldn't communicate what he wanted to about himself, so we all thought he was weirder. I think he was a complete genius, and like almost all genius', became a victim of his own talent. I just don't think you live as a genius and come out alive -- does that make sense? I think he was a person who wanted to be loved so badly and had such unimaginably low self-esteem that he became self-destructive. But I don't think he did the things he was accused of. Especially since he was found innocent -- twice.
But. You can believe whatever you want to. I will still love you.
And I'll still love Michael. He breaks my heart.
I'm glad I'm just medium-talented Marie. What if you had to suffer the fate of a talent that was useful and beloved by the whole world? What if your talent never, never let you rest or restore or function normally? What if... that was you?
And I guess that's all I have to say about that.
My friend Jenny has an excellent post about body image. Pretty darn interesting stuff.
P.S. Happy Valentine's Day! I do like love. Yesterday the gift the Double B ordered for me came FedEx. I always want to get a package! It was all I could do to pick it up by the corners and stuff it under his side of the bed. His is still in the mail. It should be here by now. I'm getting a wee bit nervous. Hopefully it comes today!
Update: Package arrived. To my door, even, and I got to open the package I so desired opening! Here's the thing, though. It's from CHINA. That's right, folks. CHINA. I have never received anything from China. In fact, I will go so far as to say I never even anticipated receiving anything from China -- ever. So it was weird. Then I was really 'ascared' (to quote my little brother) that I had just purchased six seasons of NCIS in Chinese. But they look English, so I'm relieved. Not that I have anything against Chinese, I just... don't speak it. Let's review: my package, which I bought from a nice Asian seller from California on eBay, came straight to me from CHINA.
I don't think I've done anything illegal. But the postman looked suspicious.