He’s not there. Thats all we know. Rehearsing for the 50 shows he was going to do in London he worked himself probably to death. Cardiac arrest took away the self proclaimed King of Pop. You want to cry because he’s gone but you also want to cry because his life was so sad and so strange. We don’t expect our icons to die so young, and 50 is young. We don’t know what caused it but he’s gone and forever at peace. He left us behind.
But then he left us the music.
It must have been the 20th or 25th Anniversary of Motown when the Jackson Five got together and sang an adult version of one of my favorite songs, “I’ll be There”. There was the beautiful tight harmony I remembered from the first time I heard it back in college. We lived on a fairly quiet cul de sac in Maryland where our four year old daughter had lots of children to play with. We also had something that most of our neighbors did not, a Sony Betamaxto view and record videos. The day after we recorded the anniversary show my daughter and five little girls of various races and ages sat on the sofa in the den and watched Michael Jackson perform with his brothers over and over. The oldest girl, a mere 8 ,learned quickly how to rewind to the point of the the King of Pop and his white glove. I let them watch for an hour before I made them go out into the remains of the sunshine. But I had left them alone to watch because they were safe with Michael’s music.
My oldest daughter was too scared to go out for Halloween even if she knew who was underneath the mask but she never got enough of the “Thriller” video. Michael dancing with characters from the grave falling apart before her eyes and Vincent Price speaking in his scary Gothic voice in the background was a safe haven for her.”Thriller” broke the barrier of MTV. Before Michael they did not play videos by black artists. That album sold over 50 million copies. It is still the highest selling album in history.
A superstar, a king. An icon of American pop culture who was known throughout the world. But he wasn’t happy. He never grew up. Even his voice when he wasn’t singing was soft as if still under parental abuse. He said he was happiest on stage, happiest performing. He was excited that his albums, especially ”Off the Wall” and “Thriller”, made so many people happy. And while we loved his music, his showmanship and his dancing, we hated the weird things he did. The surgeries, the accusations of sexual misconduct, the spending until he was a half billion dollars in debt. All of that changed his public image but it never changed the music. I still sing “Because I’m bad, I’m bad” whenever I pull off something that amazed me. And there was a time when I thought I’d scream if I heard “We are the World” again, but I never let go of it. When I look at pictures of the lost and lonely the song “You are not Alone” plays in the back of my mind.
But it was the dedicated dancing, the innovative moves, and the ability to hold an audience in one gloved hand that drew you in. Michael on stage was the ultimate artist. Everybody tried to Moonwalk. Lots a little kids had that red leather jacket. And lets not talk about single gloves. It made people happy to watch people happy to be singing, dancing and dressed up like Michael Jackson.
I left the house late because I wanted to see the cast of “Hair”, Tony award winner for best revival, do their tribute to Michael Jackson on ABC. They picked “I’ll be There” and performed it shortly after they did a rousing rendition of the title song of the musical. When they sang for Michael it started to rain. The camera panned the faces in the audience, many in tears, all of them singing. Who does not know at least some of the words to “I’ll be There”? “I’ll reach out my hand to you”. That single gloved hand. The song ended and the rain stopped as if Michael had planned it that way. Those who worked with him in concert said he was a perfectionist.
In the subway the trains kept passing without stopping and soon the platform was packed with riders looking down into newspapers. From where I stood most of them were reading about Michael Jackson. As the train approached an old man started humming something to a woman and her infant. The woman smiled and the baby turned her head to smile at the music. I couldn’t decipher the music it until the train stopped. Then I heard the man sing in a sweet rickety voice the last lines of the song that was still in my mind. “If you should every find someone new, I know he better be good to you. Cause if he doesn’t I’ll be there.”
The baby smiled and life went on with the music. It always will.
