This is IT

I owe MJ an apology.

For the last decade I have overused the phrase, “ Michael Jackson? I liked him when he was a black man, as a white woman- it doesn’t work for me.”

This coming for the same girl, who at the age of 10 during the fourth grade, at the height of Thriller, asked her teacher to call her Mrs. Jackson. I got a paused, look down the nose, emphatic NO.

The popular girls in my class had formed a club, as part of which each girl was to pick a famous movie star, ie: Tom Cruise, Matt Damon, C. Thomas Howell, etc. I, of course, having taste beyond my years, considered who was the most amazingly talented star out there, and wisely chose Michael Jackson. I don’t remember my choice meeting with criticism, although I do remember this sort of surprise or shock at not picking some hunky babe. Thinking back on it, it was one of those opportunities that the popular where laughing at the not so popular, and perhaps had even put me up to the task of asking Mrs. Uluman if she would address me as Mrs. Michael Jackson for the remainder of the year.

I didn’t turn my back on him then. In fact, I started looking back to the Jackson Five era for music with which to choreograph. Again, wisely, I chose ABC and once found that groove just made me, plus the young kids I was teaching, bust it out!! I couldn’t stop there, I added, Dancing Machine, I Want You Back, and The Love You Save. It was like crack. I used his music throughout my young adult years. Especially the music from the Thriller album.

Unconsciously or not, as long I as I used the music when I could still identify with him as a black male, I was jamming and busting and shakin’ ‘til my lungs were burning.

“ Sit down girl! I think I love you! No, get up girl, show me what you can do! Shake it , Shake it baby! Oh oh! ABC! Do Re Mi! Baby! That’s how easy love can be.”

Then he died, and I didn’t mourn. Instead, I got really annoyed at the media. REALLY annoyed. I was upset that his death was taking up of the airtime, focusing on all the accusations, drug-use, and oddities that he employed. That because he was the “king of pop” was should honor him. Um, honor the guy who doesn’t even like himself? Who, in my eyes, has devoted himself to changing his looks as to erase his race? And really, hanging your baby from a balcony for the whole world to watch how out of touch with reality you really are?

I was angry at him. Why couldn’t he just let things be? Why all the plastic surgeries, oxygen beds, skin lightening? Why the accusations of child molestations? How do you spend that much on pharmaceuticals? Why couldn’t he love himself? I loved him? Lots of people of difficult childhoods. Look at Drew Barrymore. She came out okay.

And then last night, I had my just desserts.

I saw the This Is It film. I kept telling myself not to add to the cooperate greed of profiting from his death, yet I felt compelled. I wanted to see him, just one more time.

I clapped, tapped, and shook my booty in my subwoofing movie chair (I was in Spain. I kid you not, the chairs vibrated from the base, a subwoofer in the chair…there was a lot of base). I was taken back to my youth. I sang along. I was amazed and wow’d by the dancers. I cried.

Actually, I bawled.

I fell back in love with Michael Jackson. The white, misshapen almost unrecognizable entertainer who has a pile of allegations, mishap after mishap , and yet still LOVES to dance, sing, and do the things that no one else ever has. I was amazed. I kept wishing he was alive, as I pledged I would pay whatever amount was demand to see him live. I would go to his concert so that I could feel inspired, awed, and thrilled like I did in that moment. Instead, I was mourning his death- and all that could have been with him still in the world.

I know, SUPER cheesy.
Maybe it is because I love to dance. Maybe it is because I wish I could sing. Maybe, I just want to be like him on stage. Creative, energetic, humble, kind, and …his own person.

He is who he made himself to be. He had a ton of problems, yet despite all of that- he awed us. He created songs, dance moves, and changed the way we thought we should be entertained. In the spotlight of the world he fought to find himself, making mistakes along the way, yet choosing and ultimately accepting those consequences. It is these qualities that I admire most in my friends and family. That they are who he or she has chosen to be.

Thank Michael for reminding me of that. Please accept my apology for not accepting all of you. If I cannot accept the sweet with the sour- then how can I hope that others will accept the semi-sweet that is me.