just call my name and I'll be there

I don’t think you could have missed that today was Michael Jackson’s funeral if you tried – it was extensively covered in all media forms and was quite the topic of conversation this afternoon on twitter.

But I didn’t watch it. I did catch the clips on the evening news and every time they showed his daughter talking I just wanted to cry. Seeing the people that loved and knew Michael reminds you that he was a real person, not just an enigma.

He was the first pop star I loved – I had his posters on my wall, watched the Thriller video as much as I could (which was a challenge as a kid without MTV), and sang along to his albums. He was eventually replaced by my love for New Kids on the Block in the late 80s, but Michael will always be my first favorite artist.

Say what you will about his personal life and the decisions he made, I think that he was a very talented man and a great entertainer. I hope that, in the end, he will be remembered for his artistry and not for his personal life and problems.

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2 thoughts on “just call my name and I'll be there

  1. On my way home from work yesterday, there was a girl, looked to be in her 20s, in the car next to me absolutely BLARING Michael Jackson on the radio. It was something from Thriller, I can’t remember exactly, but it was loud. I could hear it through my car windows, which were closed. Anyway, she appeared to be tearing up a bit. It made me nostalgic for my own childhood, when I would stay up late on Friday nights to watch some countdown or another on a cable channel (not MTV, which would come later) just so I could watch the video to Beat It.

    I remember practicing my moonwalk up and down the hall in my house so that I was the best one at doing it in my after school day care. I could even do his patented leg kick. If I’d have been thinking about it at the time, when I got married, I would have had the wedding party do the Thriller Zombie dance as our wedding party dance.

    Michael Jackson is such an intrinsic part of my childhood that I know, for me at least, the lasting memories will be about his music, his talent, his dancing, and my memories surrounding the things in my life with his music as the soundtrack. I have already begun to overlook and forget the later-life mishaps that made him the subject of public ridicule. He’ll always be the one who made me discover what music does to make a happy heart. He was my first favorite artist.

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