Just Beat It! No, Not THAT, You Freak.

Look.

Let's be frank here, okay? (I suddenly have the urge to say, "And don't call me Shirley.") Michael Jackson was weird. As some comedian said, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Only in America can a poor black guy turn into a rich white guy.' The guy obviously had issues. More issues than all the psychologists/psychiatrists/counselors could ever attempt to talk about. He grew up with an abusive father (come on, admit it - you've seen that Michael Jackson movie on VH1, more than once. Don't lie. I'm onto you). If I'm remembering correctly, his father used to talk about his nose and how wide, how "black" it was. It was something he used to harp on constantly as MJ was growing up, hence his obsession with making it small, petite, and virtually non-existent.

The guy was accused of being a pedophile. In case you have selective amnesia, though, the charges were dropped because the stories of the kid and his family were inconsistent. There was even a Law & Order: Special Victims Unit episode paralleling the story ('not based on actual events' my ass, Dick Wolf) where Shirley from Laverne & Shirley was actually poisoning her granddaughter and making her think she had cancer. They then fabricated a story about a famous pop singer who'd had charges of molestation/improper relations with children before, but it all ended up being a plot to get money from him.

So. I mean. I don't know. I'm not saying that MJ didn't do it (he fully admitted letting kids sleep in his bed), but if Dick Wolf, Elliot Stabler, and Olivia Benson are insinuating that people are money-hungry bastards who poison their grandkids to make a more convincing story, then .. you know. It makes you pause and think. Because Benson and Stabler don't lie. They just don't do it. Except when Benson's trying to protect her long-lost brother ..

Anyway, the point is - the guy had his issues. I think people really are money-hungry bastards who'll do just about anything to exploit someone else (is it that far-fetched? Think about the lawsuit-happy culture we all live in right now) .. I mean, it's like that person who sued McDonald's after she spilled her hot coffee in her lap and burned herself.

And won.

That's sick. You're an idiot who ordered hot coffee and were too stupid to put it in a cup holder and instead squeezed the cup between your thighs and oops! Surprise! Hot coffee lap. Deal with your own stupidity and own up to your mistakes.

All of that aside, MJ revolutionized music. He changed it forever.

I was adopted in 1988. MJ was at the early peak of his solo career. Thriller had come out in 1982 (it's the world's best-selling record, in case you weren't aware) and Bad had just come out the year before. My brother's cabbage patch doll was named Michael. My sister's doll was named Billie Jean (these names were given by my brother and sister, respectively). If you watch my arrival video, you can see Michael Jackson's "Bad" video on the TV behind me as I bounce around in my wheeling-chair-with-tray-attached thing, which I called my Boinga Boinga. Don't ask questions. Just keep reading.

The "Thriller" video still scares the shit out of me if I watch it by myself and at night. Because of that video, I sprint past cemeteries if I happen to be walking past one at night. The opening beats of the song immediately pop into my head, in addition to Vincent Price's creepy-as-hell voice over, as I imagine decomposing hands and limbs coming forth from the depths of the crypts and graves and mausoleums. But then I think to myself, "Even if that did happen, we just have to do a synchronized dance sequence with the werewolf hand march and we'll all be okay. They'll think I'm one of them and then I'll turn around as I leave with yellow eyes and fangs. Success!"

Everyone, I don't care who you are, has tried to Moonwalk. And probably fallen over/tripped/backed up into a wall/kicked a small child. Everyone, secretly or not, dances around to Billie Jean, The Way You Make Me Feel, Bad, Beat It, and/or Thriller. Everyone's at least tried to lean the Thriller dance in its entirety. And who didn't cry at the end of Free Willy when "Will You Be There" came on? Admit it! You bawled like a baby. As did everyone else in the theatre. GO FREE WILLY, GO!

Ahem.

His personal life aside, MJ was a staple in the music world. I grew up listening to him, even if it was after he'd made it big. I grew up watching his videos. Wanting to imitate his dance moves, only to realize that I couldn't ever Moonwalk the way he did. The man may have been on the creepy side of life, but my Social Work education has made me look at him for who he really was, despite public persona: the result of an abusive, abusive father, an unhealthy family system, and a child who was stripped of his chance of being a child in order to be a performer.

To quote Micky J himself, "It don't matter if you're black or white." His death is a loss for everyone.

Here's a link to one of my favorite MJ videos, "Black or White."

- May (you remember to listen to the music).

Dreaming a Dream.

I had a weird thought today.

It was a shared thought with a friend who's visiting for the next two days. We started talking about that woman on "Britain's Got Talent," the one who's practically taking the world by storm. I mean, Oprah wanted to interview her -- you know you're big when Oprah's requesting you to be on her show.

Anyway, I later Youtubed the clip because I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

The thought that I had was how much weight we put into appearances.

Now, don't get me wrong -- I can appreciate an aesthetically pleasing person as much as the next woman or man. I have no qualms with admitting that I've got massive girl-crushes on the likes of Angelina Jolie and Natalie Portman. I also have no issues with revealing my daydreams involving Gerard Butler and/or Adam Levine, purely based on the fact that I think they're gorgeous.

But when does that kind of behavior and thinking have to stop?

I think that Susan Boyle's audition shows that boundary. She walks on stage, very unassuming. The audience rolls their eyes when Simon asks her what she wants to do and she says that she wants to be a professional singer. The girls with too much eyeliner and artificially-straightened hair scoff at seeing this woman with a pepper-colored mini afro, thick eyebrows, and a figure that would never be allowed on a runway wiggle her hips awkwardly.

What the hell?



How do those girls somehow have the right deem this woman "less than worthy" of .. whatever it is she deserves, not only as a woman with extreme talent, but simply as a human? How does altering one's appearance to be unnatural in a lot of ways mean that one is better than someone who really doesn't care about that kind of thing? If anything, shouldn't that kind of beavior mean that one is even further from that authoritative role?

I think there's a real need for change, not just in the US but in other places, too. We should be judged by what we do -- do we help the old lady across the street? Do we laugh at someone who is different from us? Do we try and leave this earth a little better than how we entered? -- and not by how we look.

But I'm glad that everyone got a dose of their own medicine at that taping of BGT.

Maybe people are just jealous. Heck, I know that I'm jealous of that's woman's ability to sing "I Dreamed a Dream." Lord knows that I've tried (yes, I do have a karaoke verison of the song) and try as I might, I don't sound even a quarter as good as her. And if I did?

I'd be damn lucky.

-- May (you be happy).