Long before all the plastic surgery, the crazy marriage to Lisa Marie Presley and the allegations of child molestation, I was majorly crushin' on Michael Jackson (see pic on the left...wasn't he cute?).
I was in 5th grade and fell in love with Thriller like everyone else in the planet and decided to profess my true affection for Michael and his music in the form of a fan letter.
Not wanting me to get my hopes up (Michael was quite the busy guy in the height of his fame, after all), my Mom told me there was a pretty good chance I'd never actually hear back from Michael—not because he didn't appreciate my letter, of course, but because he probably wouldn't have an opportunity to read it.
Undetered, I wrote him anyway...
And while I'm pretty sure he never actually read it, someone from his fan club did and sent me a bunch of M.J. goodies including stickers, a letter with a cheesy, copy machine autograph and a list of all the places he'd be performing in the next few months. Lame or not, it was enough to satisfy my interest in all things M.J., and I was absolutely delighted. I even remember showing my goodies to my neighbor, who was thoroughly unimpressed and called him a word I've never heard before...a word I had to look up in the dictionary and was mortified after finding out what it meant.
But like all pop culture phenomena, my loyalty only lasted so long. When I discovered Duran Duran (a little late, mind you) and traded in "Thriller" and "Billie Jean" for repeat listens of "Hungry Like the Wolf" and "Rio," my crush was over. It was all about Simon LeBon, and there was nothing Michael could do about it.
Over the years, I haven't followed Jackson's career much since those 5th grade days. Sure, I've heard a new song here and there on the radio, but nothing had quite the effect that anything from Thriller ever did. Instead, it was all his personal travails that were always center stage. I remember watching that infamous Martin Bashir documentary with an uneasy mix of curiosity and disbelief. I couldn't believe that someone could be so out of touch with reality—and I felt sorry for him as Bashir kept pressing him with questions he had no intention of answering honestly because he was, well, so incredibly delusional. And if he wasn't delusional, Jackson should've won a "Best Actor" Oscar because he never seemed to break character, no matter what he was talking about.
Even though my admiration for Jackson as a pop star diminished long ago, I still couldn't help but feel sad when learning of his passing this past week. The news came via a text message from my sister since I'd been away from my computer that day. Sure, I think the oversaturation of information and tributes about him in the media is a tad ridiculous (and makes me feel sorry for Farrah Fawcett, who also died on the same day). But hearing the stories of the last days of his life is just heart-wrenching. I mean if that's not a cautionary tale about the bad things that come with fame, I don't know what is. It makes me wonder if things could've been different with a few less "yes men" in his life. And don't even get me going on his family...especially his dad.
But if anything good could come out of such a horrible situation, it was this: At least MTV started playing videos again...an art that Michael Jackson actually understood. Whether you liked his music or not, his videos were always intriguing. You never knew what he going to do next, something that was both a plus and a minus in the life of Michael Jackson.