…to mourn the passing of a genius — albeit a flawed one — who provided the soundtrack to our childhood, adolescence, and coming-of-age. Dramatic? Yeah. But really, no other musician evokes such vivid memories of growing up with my siblings.
I don’t think that anyone who didn’t grow up in the 70s can quite understand this. I’m not one to ordinarily mourn the passing of complete strangers. But as I tried to explain to my daughters last night, the music of Michael Jackson is so intertwined in my memories — there is not one album in which one or two or four songs don’t evoke vivid recollection of the events and experiences of my young life. From playing Looking Through the Windows on our old record player in my sister’s bedroom…to watching her dance solo to Michael on stage at a talent show in the Clifford School gymnasium…to gathering around the TV to watch the world premiere of the Thriller video…to playing Man in the Mirror at the house of a guy I was sooo secretly crushing on when I was 18…to riding with my brother in his VW Scirocco, amazed that he knew every word, beat and “oooo!” in every song.
Yeah, he got really odd. But honestly…who wouldn’t, with the whole world watching him from when he was so small? I know, I know…some wouldn’t. What a sad reality that his temperament + massive fame = wacky train wreck. What a shame.
But I don’t want to dwell on that…the media is doing it for me. 😉 I’m just gonna get back to my all-day MJ dance party and celebrate the music, thankful that he was able to share his gifts with the world.