Michael Joseph Jackson (August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009)
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cally grew up with him, sharing in the mnemonic benefits of “ABC” as well as the touching, child-like the late Michael Jackson. I curiousfaithfulness of “I’ll Be There.” The ly note that my small essay becomes boy Michael was an absolute star, at lost in the many thousands of postthat time a status typihumous accolades the cally reserved for white world has suddenly deadults. In that way the cided to dole out onto anomaly of Michael MJ. This same world Jackson transformed that has virtually deevery child in Amerspised Michael Jackson ica into an extension for the last fifteen years of his stardom. Chilhas now realized what a By Clint Wells dren, who have little treasure we have lost. I fear of the unknown, suppose this is a bettermust be taught raclate-than-never situaism and therefore had tion, but I cannot help little trouble cross-culbut wonder where all of turally identifying with these fans were when him. This racial tranMJ was infamously acscendence stuck procused (and acquitted) of foundly with Jackson child molestation, exPhoto:Morton Lin via Flickr (as evidenced through ploited again and again his controversial skin colby the media, navigating or change in the late ‘80s / early financial ruin, or making one of his ‘90s) and remains a pleasantly remost vulnerable (yet commercially markable accomplishment to me. unsuccessful and largely ignored) reIn 1979 the twenty-year-old cords to date (Invincible…seriously MJ released Off the Wall. My parcheck it out). The world never really ents were in college most likely got over Michael Jackson’s strangediscovering sex, drugs, and comness, and while I think I can sympaparatively liberal education for the thize with that, it also saddens me. first time while capitalizing on the I never knew the MJ of my death rattle of disco to songs like parent’s generation. They practihis is my obligatory goodbye / thank you to
Personal HIStory:
Michael Jackson
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“Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” ture of MJ with a baby tiger, which and “Rock with You.” Off The Wall I found both fun(ny) and horrifying. was MJ’s first foray into sexual inMJ was absolutely mythological to nuendo. For my parents and their me. In my more cerebral moments generation this was hardly cause for (as cerebral as one can be at age concern. They were all discovering five) and with my life outstretched their own latent sexuality, and who before me I used to think about better to explore those things with what the mythology of Thriller than Michael Jackson? The Jackson meant to me. The magic of that re5 always represented strong moral cord made me believe in things I and family values (which was a joke had no proof of yet. In less serious as it turns out). It was refreshing to moments I would dance for hours see that MJ had a libido “Billie Jean” was (my first memories of too, and rubbing against dancing, actually) to “Bilplaying in about the outside of that moral lie Jean” and I was utterly 1,000,000 homes as center had to have been convinced that “Beat It” exciting. Off the Wall is a I was pulled into the was one of the most babadass record and, more world eager to begin dass rock and roll songs importantly, a snapshot my postnatal exis- ever recorded. Turns out of a time when the world I was pretty much dead tence. was still in MJ’s corner. on. Thriller is currentI was born in 1983, which ly the highest selling record of all means that “Billie Jean” was playing time, and I am happy and thankful in about 1,000,000 homes as I was to have understood why (even subpulled into the world, coughing and consciously) at such a young age. screaming, cold and astounded, eaIn the ‘80s (ages 0-7) my teleger to begin my postnatal existence. vision watching experience was My earliest musical memory is beexclusive to MTV, the Disney ing five or six years old, sitting in my Channel, (favs were Adventures in toy closet and staring at the Thriller Wonderland, Fraggle Rock, Unvinyl for hours. I can’t recall where der the Umbrella Tree), and horror I got it, but it was my first vinyl. My movies. This is important because grandfather had given me a small the visual element of Michael Jackrecord player, and I would sit in the son is a case study of its own. I’m closet and listen to it repeatedly. going to try and avoid the cultural The album sleeve contains a picsignificance of MJ’s music videos fourwalls.down.com
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(they were fucking revolutionary to changes in MJ’s appearance. It’s inthe art form) and instead focus on teresting to look back and rememmy personal feelings about them. ber thinking nothing of the fact that First, there was the video for this iconoclast had gone from look“Thriller.” As a music lover and an ing like a black man to a white man. avid fan of horror this was (and is) I never even questioned it. Because perhaps the greatest video of my life. of MJ’s appearance change (in conIn this video an exceedingly charmjunction with pictures of him sleeping MJ both consoles and teases his ing in an oxygen tank, a $1 million love interest when she gets freaked request for Elephant Man’s bones, out by a werewolf movie (interestand the acquisition of a pet moningly this movie is about how MJ key) my parents quit referring to MJ transforming into a werewolf). as the King of Pop and started usShe’s playing along, kind of digging ing the cruel term, “Wacko Jacko.” it (who wouldn’t?), Their views of until a bunch of It turns out that Michael is also a him hurt my zombies suddenly feelings, and badass, dancing zombie. climb out of their like most kids graves. As if this situation couldn’t my age I felt as though it were my get any worse, it turns out that Miduty to stand up for MJ. All I knew chael is also a badass, dancing zomwas that Bad was indeed extremely bie. The girl runs into a house and badass. I felt badass just listening to up the stairs (one of the top five it. The titular song and video conthings NEVER to do in a horror tained messages about finding your movie scenario), and before she is own identity and resisting peer presravaged by these brain-eaters she sure. When MJ wasn’t encouraging awakens to find it was just a dream, kids to think for themselves, he was which truthfully disappointed me. doing really crazy things like gravThe cherry on top of the whole deal ity suspending dances as a magical is when MJ looks back at the camera crime boss, moonwalking through with zombie eyes. I mean, wow! Can zoot suit saloons, and morphing you imagine a six-year-old Clintboy into random objects (at the end of taking all of this in? Joy overload. the “Smooth Criminal” video MJ Then there was Bad’s amazing transforms into a fucking spacecollection of videos. This era marks ship!). I must have logged 1,000 the first real controversy about hours playing the game Moonwalkfourwalls.down.com
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er on my second hand Sega Genesis. In 1990 I was eight years old and going to sleep with a poster of Bad looking down on me from the ceiling. All things being equal, I was sleeping in a bed with Michael Jackson too. At that age it didn’t seem strange at all. In fact, it seemed like an absolutely magical endeavor. During this time, around 3rd or 4th grade, I had a comic book collection box. On it, I listed my favorite bands of the time: Pearl Jam, Guns ‘N Roses, Michael Jackson, Dr. Dre, and interestingly, the entire genre of rap. The box proves I was an original gangsta MJ fan. In 1992, at age nine, I received my first compact disc as a gift from my best friend, Aaron Shaffer. And what was my first ever compact disc? You guessed it: Michael Jackson’s Dangerous. I used to stare, hypnotized, at the artwork for this record. It was so bizarre and intriguing. My family had only one CD player about the size of a pizza box. In order to transport this glorious recording to school and to my friends’ houses, I convinced my mom fourwalls.down.com
to let me buy the cassette as well. I will always be thankful to my mom for constantly accommodating me when it came to music. One of my fondest childhood memories is of walking the streets of my suburban Birmingham neighborhood with Aaron. We both had our Walkman tape players, headphones, and the Dangerous cassette. We would count to three and press play at the same time so that we could both jam together. I smile when thinking of two nineyear-olds walking down the street singing “Black and White” (we took turns on lead vocals), attempting the moonwalk, and falling into a fit of laughter, celebrating life to the soundtrack of Dangerous. I grew up in a divorced home. My family was split between Birmingham and Montgomery, which meant long drives back and forth twice a month. In the early 90s the three tapes that accompanied me on those confusing commutes were Ten (Pearl Jam), Use Your Illusion II (Guns ‘N Roses) and Dangerous. I can’t help but psychoanalyze Page 4 of 6
that those three enigmatic frontmen (EdVed, Axl Rose, and MJ) helped me build a character framework for dealing with those long drives, helped me navigate feelings of alienation, loneliness, and uncertainty. It is a sweet memory. In 1995 MJ released HIStory, which was half greatest hits and half new material. The first single, “Scream,” was hands down my favorite song and music video of that year. I was thirteen and played baseball. At a day practice that summer I brought a boom box and attempted to play the entire HIStory record while we hit and threw baseballs. About 45 seconds into “Scream” (track one) I was ridiculed and forced to stop the record, which was horrifying at the time. I wasn’t playing the record as a novelty. I was playing it because I loved it. The video also made experiencing puberty interesting (thank you, Janet Jackson). It’s nice to look back on that moment and realize my love for that song has far outfourwalls.down.com
lasted my love for baseballs. It doesn’t take a psychology degree to deduce that MJ never dealt with his childhood. Confronted by such an intense amount of public adulation in direct contrast to the personal abuse and neglect he suffered in his home, MJ never experienced any kind of normal childhood. He even called his home the Neverland Ranch, obviously symbolizing a place where one never grows up. He was a regressive child. That is why kids have always loved him, and that is why he always made so much room in his life for children. That’s not to say that he was never clever or calculating. Almost every weird thing you have heard about him and oxygen tanks and bone collecting were purposefully leaked to the media and carry little real truth. Already suffering intense selfimage issues he went through puberty (complete with complexion issues, which I also dealt with extensively) in the limelight. However, Page 5 of 6
he never bleached his skin. He suffered from Vitiligo. His frequent rhinoplasty surgeries left him borderline unrecognizable. It is difficult to think of the mental state that allowed all of those things to transpire. What’s remarkable is that through all of the adversity MJ became one of the most iconic artists in history. He has sold over 750 million records, annihilated racial barriers in the music industry, revolutionized the music video, created entire sub-genres of dancing, has the highest selling record of all time, and holds the world record for most charities supported by a pop star. MJ is very polarizing, but I’ve been surprised by the cynicism on both sides of the reaction to his death. A woman I work with casually remarked that she hoped he was burning in hell. I don’t know what to say to that. The last fifteen years of scandal surrounding MJ have pulled at the same heartstrings in me that felt the need to defend him from my parents at age seven. There is a kid inside of me that still pulls for Michael Jackson because I guess I believe he always would have pulled for me. As far as I’m concerned he is a Beatle. An Elvis. A fucking Mohandis Ghandi. The world is less rich without Michael Jackson. I hope that wherever MJ is, he is resting peacefully and never growing up.
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