I was asleep on the couch today when my youngest son called at 6:23 p.m. to ask had I heard that Michael Jackson had died. I thought I was dreaming. I turned on CNN and there was Wolf Blitzer saying they couldn't confirm it. I switched to CBS - and there was Katie Couric saying it was so. I started to cry.
My oldest son, who just celebrated his 28th birthday a week ago, was just a year-old when Thriller came out. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was still in the Navy, we were living in beautiful Key West and yes, I was still clubbin' - dancing the night away to that album (think what you like, I don't front). He was still "Black and Beautiful" then, but his appearance was starting to change. That didn't matter much to me though because, IMHO, he was a musical genius with magic feet - and he was OURS.
I absolutely loathe Jeffrey Toobin. I don't think there's a person on this earth that doesn't know, or have their own opinion about, the child molestation trial, the settlements - all of it. But, among all the panelists on CNN talking about Michael's CAREER, Toobin was the only one who continuously marginalized the MAN, talking only of his "unhealthy relationships with children" and the fact that the money Michael had made was not necessarily due to his talent, but because he'd bought the Beatles catalogue! Ass-wipe!
My heart's been so heavy lately just thinking about my people and this surreal, allegedly post-racial age of the Changeling. I've been trying to write about it, but it's been difficult. Michael's death today has made it that much harder because for the second time in 52 years - mortality speaks. As I talked to my son, all I could do was cry. He kept asking me what was the matter. I tried to explain it to him, but there just - were no - words.
I'm still cryin' ya'll. Maybe I'll be able to 'splain it later on. For now, hoping the YouTube links still work...(Remember Alfonso Ribiero in this?)
And one of my favorites among many:
You can rest now Michael.