At the risk of offending the throngs of Michael Jackson fans, I've just got to say, enough already! Don't get me wrong. I appreciate his talent as an entertainer. He showed promise when he was very young (too young in my opinion to be performing, going on the road, and thrust into a world that was anything but a normal childhood). But over the last 40+ years it was hard for me to separate the entertainer from the "weirdo" he became. Now I'm not going to say anything about the accusations about his proclivity for children. Everyone has their own opinion on that one, but this week-long memorials/tributes/retrospectives/photo galleries/past interviews and finally, the funeral that has dominated the airwaves, come on. I'm speechless watching people, self-proclaimed fans, cry and wail and tell us how he changed their lives and "I don't know what I'll do without him!" Yikes!
Have I mentioned, he was an entertainer? What's wrong with people? Perhaps it was another case of doctors enamored with celebrity prescribing drugs they had no business writing scrips for, or staff that just looked the other way. Maybe it was a guy who, like Elvis, thought he was immortal and that he would live forever no matter what poor choices he made, so that common sense and medicinal side effects were never explored. I don't know. Elvis didn't seem to have much of a grasp of reality either, and he died too young and unnecessarily, too.
And then there's the price tag for this Staples Center ceremony. Who's going to pay for that? How likely do you think it is that the Jackson family will feel that it's their responsibility? Personally, I don't think that's going to fly. But, I could be wrong. I guess we'll see how this all unfolds, and unfolds and unfolds...This is going to be a long, drawn out affair and will take us through the muck and mire of Wills (how many are there?) and DNA tests, and guardianships and debts and making Neverland Ranch a tourist attraction, etc, etc. etc. I'm sure we'll see everything from his white sequined glove to small vials of Michael Jackson's sweat hit good ol' EBAY. This is not the end. Quite the contrary. This weirdness will only continue, rest assured.
At the core of this blog is the fact that I have never felt the emotional fervor of being a FAN. There were artists that I liked and those I didn't. I bought a few records over the years, even picked up a "movie magazine" or two (that's sorta like US magazine for you youngsters.) I didn't see a live concert and scream and cry and toss my undergarments up on stage. I didn't drive cross-country to be at Woodstock or even make plans to go to the Lakefront in Milwaukee for Summerfest, when I lived in Milwaukee. I didn't when I was young and the couple of live performances that I've attended in the past few years for Josh Groban and James Taylor, left me convinced it's a lot more comfortable and I could see better by watching these entertainers on TV. I mention this so that the last statement doesn't make you think I'm an old fuddy-duddy. I felt the same way when I was young (which could've made me a young fuddy-duddy at that time, but you generally don't hear young and fuddy-duddy in proximity to one another).
So, in closing, let me just say that even though by writing this blog I am only adding one more recollection of MJ to the overtaxed pile, I do it because I hope I speak for many of you out there who have had these same feelings about all the hoopla but didn't want to spent a half-hour of your time, spouting off about it. Leave that to the silly bloggers!