I was just reliving childhood memories in the last post about the films of 1984. Perhaps there’s no bigger childhood memory than the sequined, white glove. Hard to believe the King of Pop is gone. Even harder to believe he was 50.
My parents had their touchstone moments. The Death of Elvis, JFK,’s assassination…all worthy “Where were you when?” moments. I guess my generation can hang their hats on the Challenger and now Michael Jackson’s death.
I know I’m going to take a lot of grief for this. I’m probably the most right wing conservative, Haggard and Jones, type person that any of you have ever met, but, and Al has given me mad grief over this, I was always a huge Michael Jackson fan. How could you be a child of the 80’s and not have some love for the one gloved wonder?
I’ve long been fascinated by the concept of fame, and not just your garden variety, “Oh, wow I just saw Julia Roberts in the checkout lane” kind of fame. I’m talking about worldwide domination that few people, The Beatles, Elvis, have ever reached. Whatever your opinions of Jackson you would be hard pressed to argue that anyone has ever been bigger.
The thing that bothers me the most are the molestation allegations. Maybe I’m jaded by my years in the law, but if there’s one class of people that I hate worse than any other…it’s Plaintiffs. People that refuse to work and are determined to bring the legal system into their welfare scheme. Jackson was the perfect defendant – everyone in the world knows him, is probably prejudiced against him in some way, and he could drop a $40 million settlement check without thinking twice. It’s the same reason why all these losers sue Wal-Mart…deep pockets.
Was he a little strange? Sure. Bad plastic surgery decisions? Definitely. But if either of those were a crime then 90% of the state of California should be under indictment.
Thriller, the rise of MTV, the white glove, the moonwalk, and the Pepsi commercial fireball…for me, Michael Jackson was the 80’s. I guess that’s the true measure of an icon.
The Rubik’s cube, jam boxes, and Star Wars lunchboxes are all forever linked in my memories of the 80’s and to me the 80’s were Michael. And, if I’m being completely honest, the 80’s were when Michael was king and before he began his journey into adulthood as a white female.
I guess the one person we should really feel badly for is Farrah Fawcett. An icon in her own right, but boy, did she pick the wrong day to go.