6/25 The day the music died

I had this idea about writing a long over-due post about what direction I want this blog to go in. But what can I say? The news of Michael Jackson’s death hit me like a ton of rocks.

My earliest memory of MJ includes watching “The Jacksons: An American Dream” the very first time it was shown around 1992, when I was in the second grade. The scene where his hair catches fire during the Pepsi commercial scarred me. I was afraid to see Michael Jackson on TV for about 3 years.  When he was interviewed by Oprah Winfrey in 1993, I spent the majority of the evening hiding under the pink blanket on my bed. I was afraid to see him; I thought he would shoot up in flames at any moment.

In recent years, “Wannabe Startin’ Something” became a staple in my workout routine. I own almost all of his records, including Bad and Thriller on vinyl.

The scene at Apollo Theater

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I cried when I read the news yesterday. It was like a part of my childhood just died.  I raced to Times Square to watch the news on the giant TV. It was eerily quiet on 42nd street as everyone stood in silence and shock. I ran back into the subway to take a train up to Harlem.

I spent the rest of the evening singing loudly to “Pretty Young Thing” “Billie Jean” and of course, “I want you back” with other fans who had come out to make sense of the situation. I like to think our live memorial is what he would have wanted. No tears. Just groove to the music.

One of the best is gone. I know he will live on through his music, but nothing can ever compare to Michael Jackson live. The man who literally defied gravity, is now above gravity and pain. May you be at peace forever MJ. There is only one thing all of us down on earth can say:

Thank you.