I had an entry ready for today, written to follow my last entry about expectations, this one about pregnancy expectations, but in the light of today's events, it will be postponed.
I am devastated. I can't believe Michael Jackson AND Farrah Fawcett are dead. I have actually been crying!! Lord, help me.
I never watch the news anymore, or adult television for that matter. If the TV is on, it stays on Sprout, Baby Einstein videos or Elmo's World. My mother knows this, so she called to give me the tragic news. I was in my son's room, filming him while he took a book out of his bookcase, flipped through it, then threw it to the side and pulled another one out, again and again. I think it is so grown-up of him, even if he does look at them upside down.
After I hung up with my mom, I started crying! Although I am in complete shock that Farrah is gone, I am crushed about Michael Jackson. His music was a big chunk of my childhood! He was one of those bigger-than-life people who I never imagined to be mortal. Like my Grandaddy. Or my first dog, Frodo. Those you thought could beat Death at its own game.
MJ's death has brought back so many memories. I had his Bad album and his Thriller album on LP. The Thriller album was my pride and joy (along with Debbie Boone's You Light Up My Life, the Go-Go's Vacation and my Xanadu soundtrack). I thought the cover was sleek and cool with the dramatic black background and that tiger! Very dangerous...
One of my clearest memories of childhood is when the "Thriller" video debuted on MTV. You know, back when MTV played music videos...before the days of Jenny McCarthy and game shows, before the days of reality tv. I even remember the day MTV debuted on television.
I pretty much kept the television on MTV all hours of the day in the '80's.. I would even write down the videos and the artists I watched during the day, in the order I watched them, just so I could go back and reminisce later. I know, weird. I would videotape, on VHS, hours of videos, especially when they had a Bon Jovi marathon. I watched the Headbanger's Ball religiously every weekend. I was in love with the VJ, Adam (I think that was his name? Curly, brown hair?), and I didn't like Downtown Julie Brown. I have no idea why.
The day the "Thriller" video debuted, MTV played it like three times in a row. It scared me so bad that I had to watch it from the bottom of our stairs, peeking around the corner so that I could run upstairs to my mom if need be...you know, if one of the dead people from the video jumped out of the television, or came running out of my laundry room, or anything unforeseen like that.
I remember when his hair caught fire while filming the Pepsi commercial. I remember the Moonwalk and trying to master his moves in my socks around my bedroom floor. I tried to memorize Vincent Price's speaking part in "Thriller" and I thought the girl in the video was sooooo pretty and lucky. And who could forget the video for "Say, Say, Say" with Paul McCartney and "Billie Jean" with the floor tiles that lit up when he walked? The gang dancing in "Beat It" and the hot chick in "The Way You Make Me Feel"? Who didn't want to look like her?
I am sad. I don't like to remember the Michael Jackson of the last decade or so, the one accused of child molestation. Truth be told, I always felt a little sorry for him. I thought he looked very lonely when I saw him in news reports on TV. Fame at that magnitude can't be easy. And yes, he was neurotic and strange and allegedly a pedophile. But, I like to remember the MJ of the 80's, before all that. I loved 80's MJ.
Tonight I sang "Beat It" to my son while I was feeding him dinner. He started clapping in his high chair and giggling. I thought it was an appropriate personal tribute to one of my childhood heroes.
Now I have to go watch endless hours of CNN and Dateline coverage until I have accepted the news and can peacefully go to bed with visions of MJ moonwalking in my head.