A Death In The Family

It is a common question to ask you where you were or what you were doing on the day you found out that John F Kennedy was shot. The news was so Earth-shattering that pretty much EVERYONE can answer that question (I was walking home from first grade when I overheard some of the older kids in front of me talking about it).

Well, today that question has changed. As of now, and I would imagine for quite some time into the future you will hear people asking, "Where were you or what were you doing on the day when you found out that MICHAEL JACKSON died?"

Well, I was still trying to figure out my digital converter box and was scrolling through the myriad features when I heard the announcement of his untimely death break in under the menu item 'parental control'. I dropped the remote in surprise, and couldn't make the menu screen go away at first, so I could only hear the TV sound and not see the video. At first I thought something had happened to Joe Jackson, the music icon from the 1980's, until I realized they were talking about Michael's father Joseph. Then I thought it was his father who had died. Then I got a call from a friend who clarified it all for me, at about the same time as I managed to rid the screen of info I couldn't figure out and see for myself what was going on.

I couldn't believe it! Michael Jackson dead? I JUST went to one of his concerts... 26 years ago! (too soon for humor?) The worst part is he was YOUNGER than me (by a year). Because of our age similarity I had always used him as a benchmark. Was I doing things at the same time as he? Did I get married when he did? Did I have kids when he did? Did I build myself an amusement park in my backyard when he did? Did I make my first platinum album when he did? Okay, so some things we didn't share...

In a morbid game of telephone tag, I of course called everyone I knew, trying to be the first one to pass along the huge news to them. In one shocking moment I realized that I was a gossipmongering muckraker, but I just didn't care. It was gratifying to hear their fantastic reactions:

"OH NO HE DIDN'T!""SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"You're lying to me, you scum-sucking, whore-banging, ugly-ass muthafucka!"

"WAAAAAAAAAH!"

But the one call which almost made Jacko's passing worthwhile was to my know-it-all friend who is in the music business. He must have been in the bathroom when the news came on because he is a TV junkie and never turns the media off... it was highly unlikely I would find out before he did, so when I surprised him with the news he was almost violently incredulous...

"No effin' way!"

"Yes, they broke into regular programming to tell us. I missed an earth-shattering announcement about Brooke's triplet babies on Guiding Light!" (I've never seen the soap, but he wouldn't know that...)

"You're bullshitting me!"

"I shit you not."

"You shit me so. There is no Brooke with triplets on Guiding Light."

DAMN! That know-everything prick did it again! "A hundred bucks says I'm right about Jacko." THAT stopped him. He knows I never bet unless there's a 100% chance I'm right. I could hear him flipping through the channels and at every stop, announcers were in the middle of saying, "Michael Jackson is dead at 50." I could HEAR the color draining from his face. "I can't believe it."

"It's a good day for you, pal," I joked. "Don't you sell antiques?"

He glowered at me over the phone. "USED records."

"Oh, right. Well, how many Michael Jackson ANTIQUE USED RECORDS are you going to sell today?"

His voice grew chipper and I could imagine the lightbulb over his head flaring. "Oh, yeah! Gotta run... I've got inventory to load!"

I had to laugh... there's no sweeter sound to a businessman than the jangle of a cash register.

But a call to another friend didn't go so well and is one of the two reasons why this post is featured in my 'Anger Management' blog and not in my 'Happy Happy Joy Joy' blog.

The other reason is that I don't have a 'Happy Happy Joy Joy' blog. If you've found one, I promise it's not mine.

His response to the news was curt: "One less pedophile in the world. Good be gone."

I did not need to make out a feeling finder to know he had reached a trigger point with me. In a flash I felt incredulity, rage, shame and violence... and grateful that he was miles away at the moment.

I'll get back to the conversation shortly, but I want to cover my reasons for the emotions I was feeling, and to do that I need to share a little background about myself.

I have made it a matter of personal pride that I can separate my feelings for an artist and the emotional response their art brings. As an example I bring up Don Henley, singer for the rock band The Eagles. As a roadie years ago I personally witnessed behavior I found reproachful and for that reason I have little respect for the man. This does not stop me from enjoying the music he creates, nor from buying his CD's, although I have to admit I don't like the idea of him profiting in any way.

We could also look at Meatloaf, a performer for whom I have the greatest respect and admiration, but whose music I cannot tolerate. My respect for him prevents me from hurting his feelings, so please don't tell him I said this.

Michael Jackson was a true artist, writing and performing dozens of mega-hits over dozens of years. He was an inspiration to a generation of young artists, an idol to people from all corners of life and an object of desire to many others.

He was a sensitive who was pushed into the public eye way too young and without enough emotional support, whose quirks and affectations began to surface with alarming regularity... the purchase of the 'Elephant Man's' bones, building of an amusement park on his property, the marriage and quick divorce from Elvis Presley's daughter, dangling his baby out of a hotel window, the questions of his sexuality... and then there were the allegations of impropriety with one of the many unsupervised boys who slept in his bed with him.

I have great admiration for his musical genius, and hold in awe his breathtaking dancing abilities, but I have to ask myself if it is okay to see him positively, and I have to admit that it is.

For one thing, I am not really a fan of idle gossip (despite my admission at the outset); I have no desire to injure someone's career or personal life with damning talk. I think passing along the news of someone's demise is merely informational, not actually damaging. But speculation is all too often mistaken for fact, and with alleged information as serious as pedophilia it is of paramount importance to GET IT RIGHT.

The fact is that Jackson, in an interview, admitted a childlike perspective, and if he is to be believed, there was nothing more going on in his bed than the comfort of innocents, minds so pure as to be uncorrupted by adult ideals. For Jackson, who had been molded into his current form by manipulative and self-serving adults, the purity of those young minds was the appeal, not the flesh.

If he can be believed.

I am always struck by numbers. Over the years, there were many children who stayed with him at Neverland Ranch. Were they ALL treated the way the plaintiff described? If so, where were they all during the trial? That question alone causes me to think in the direction of parents seeking payouts.

Think about it. Would you allow your tweener to spend the night alone at ANY famous adult's house, unsupervised? If the answer is yes, then I have to additionally ask, WHY? What would possess you to allow such an event to transpire? In asking, I came up with a few possibilities for answers:

1. You are naive, or an idiot, or a fool.

2. You couldn't give a damn what happens to your child.

3. You are close personal friends with the star; more like family, having spent thousands of hours alone with them in the past, and trust them without question.

4. You know about the pedophilia and approve of it, thinking of it as a necessary step into adulthood, just like it was for you.

5. You have been lied to about the entire event, with no mention of kids in beds with the star.

6. You see the potential for an enormous payout from the rich fool, who would gladly give it to preserve their career.

You see where I'm heading? The court found the testimony of the plaintiff and his parents to be shaky at best, and although other children had been there, done that, there was no corroboration. Case dismissed.

Getting back to the conversation with my thoughtless friend, I have to admit that at that moment I was not at my Anger Managed best. The moment his comment sunk in completely, I had some choice words for him. In no particular order I called him an ignoramous, a knuckle-dragging wildebeest and a slant-scalped twitterhead. I also accused him of seeing the world through moron-colored glasses (that's moron, not maroon).

Quick to respond, he shot back allegations of his own; calling me a straight-bashing heterophobe; accusing me of storing salamis on my person by sitting on them, HARD, and citing my own misconduct with the twelve little boys in my root cellar (how on EARTH did he know about them?). It progressed from there.

I suggested he should be tied in a cage with six sexually charged bulls in heat. He thought to unhook a chain saw chain and pass one end all the way through my digestive tract, relinking the two ends when it came out the other side and turning the machine on. I mentioned my goal of luring him into a metal room that was actually an industrial wine press and selling the liquids that emanate from the press to his grieving family as special 'buffalo broth'.

He paused for a moment. So did I. Then he said, "So Michael Jackson died, huh?"

I said, "Yup, about an hour ago."

He said, "I loved Billie Jean."

I saw that as an olive branch, so I asked, "Would that be the song... or the tennis player?"

I suppose I expected this... he hung up on me. Though before he did, he asked, "Coming to AM class next week?"

I said, "I couldn't miss it."