At this very moment, I could have been a widow. That is, if things would have gone differently about 35 years ago.
Sadly, that's not the way things unfolded.
When I was about 12 I wrote a letter to my love, Michael Jackson. In this letter I professed my undying love for him and my wish to be his girlfriend. At the end of the letter, in a typical teenage angst-ridden tone I confessed that there was perhaps one small problem in our future relationship, and that fact was that I was white.
I never heard back from him. I was crushed.
If only he had.
In all seriousness, I'm very saddened by his death. He was a musical genious. I know he had issues, but to me his talent outshined all that.
6 comments:
I'm sad, too. And Hallie is really, really sad. She's adored him since she was a toddler. Has every song he ever recorded.
I'm sad too... he seems such a sad and tragic young man. I found it hard to realize that he was only five years younger than me. He has always seemed much younger.
He and I were the same age (both of us born in 1958, along with Madonna), so I feel as if mortality is now breathing down my neck.
Regardless of his personal life, his weirdity, his plastic surgeries - he could sing, and he could dance. (I still remember seeing him do the Moonwalk for the first time at the Motown 25 special in 1983.)
Maybe you're the reason he tried so hard to become white?
It's always sad to see someone die but he was such a tragic figure, I don't see the genius that so many people talk about either.
Hi Schell, I wonder if the funeral director with put him back together in the casket as the old black skinned afro-d ethnic nose-d Michael, or the white, wigged with the flat ironed "Rachel" hair and ruby red lipstick? I'd even like the Thriller, zombie MJ look better than the look he ended with.
I kind of like the "The Way You Make me Feel" look...long pony tail, not-too-altered face.
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