Remembering The Man In The Mirror

Some of you Dear Friends, will not care for this blog, and that's okay. I'm writing it more for myself and for those other children of the 80's who grew up listening and dancing to the music of Michael Jackson.

True, yes...he was a member of the incredibly famous Jackson Five in the 70's, but he reached iconic status in the 80's.

Some of you may not be able to look past his life as it was played out in the media all around the world for the last several years. Some of you may not have liked his music. Some of you may think he was a "freak" and have no use for him at all.

I can honestly say that despite all of the hoopla that surrounded his somewhat bizarre behavior at times, I will remember him as he was when he was at his very best. I cannot remember him as he was at his worst because that would be remembering that he was a damaged and lonely human being who desperately sought approval and affection and who sadly, never felt truly loved. I'll remember him at his best because that is when his talent ruled the world.

In high school, I never quite felt like I fit into any clique. I mostly felt awkward and goofy and out of place. There were though, a few times when I felt a part of the group. One of those times was made possible by Michael Jackson.

When the video for Thriller was released, my family only owned a black and white t.v. and we had no cable. Imagine that. A teenager in the 80's and no MTV. My parents should have been arrested for abuse. Anyway, the school library had a television and I remember when the video for Thriller came out, the librarian turned on the t.v. so that those of us who were "studying" in the library could watch it. We all gathered around the t.v. and as students passed by the library windows and saw the crowd gathering, they came in to see what was going on and the crowd grew. There must have been thirty or so of us standing around watching that screen in complete silence and awe. I remember looking around at my fellow classmates and thinking that I was a part of something. History. Music. I could feel it in the hair that was standing up on my arms.

I suppose that each generation has a King. My generation, the children of the 80's, had Michael Jackson. He was the King of Pop. His body of work contains hundreds upon hundreds of songs, legendary music videos such as Thriller, Beat It and Billie Jean, The Moonwalk (Oh, yeah. Don't tell me you haven't tried it!) and more crotch grabbing, lip biting, glove wearing dance moves than you can shake a stick at.

And, speaking of The Moonwalk, I once had it perfected. Yes, I was that geeky. I'll give you a tip: Don't wear your Nikes to Moonwalk. Wear ballet flats. "Real" ballet flats like we wore in the 80's. You'll slide like you're on glass.

I don't know if anyone knows what went awry in the mind and heart of Michael Jackson. We must assume, even with only elementary knowledge of psychology, that he suffered greatly at times. We've all heard those who claimed to have been in his inner circle say that he was a gentle, loving, compassionate and childlike man. It's difficult to reconcile that with what we saw played out in the media, so I'm not going to try.

What I will remember is the legacy he leaves behind. I'll remember the music he gave us that was sheer fun and that made us open our sun roofs and crank up the stereo while we were cruising Main Street. I'll also remember the music he made in an attempt to make us open our minds and see beyond race and gender and social class. I'll remember him as that soft spoken and shy King of Pop with the glittery glove and moves that would make Elvis blush.

I will remember.