Where Was I When Michael Jackson Died?
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An unforgettable moment in history. But why?
Where was I when Michael Jackson died?
The king of pop has popped and the whole world grieves, comparing the event to the likes of Elvis and JFK. “It will be one of those moments where you will always remember where you were when Michael Jackson died,” is repeated across the nation in hushed solemn whispers. So, I must ask myself, where was I? The answer is not so memorable as the question.
Ensconced in my temporary home in England, chatting with my American friend, she suddenly stops mid-finger stroke and sends, “Dude… Michael Jackson is dead.” Of course my thick as sludge brain didn’t downshift that swiftly and I blinked mutely. This, I must confess, is anti-thesis to the whole chat process and left the next few seconds of our conversation a bit….well…. conversation-less. All I could think to respond with the utmost eloquence was a lackluster, “What?”
Moments later, the shock set in. Michael Jackson, that crazy second cousin that always stalked the shadows of our lives, a legend that was simply there and always would be… suddenly wasn’t. Like taking the moon out of orbit, or as the case may be, the moonwalk. As I’m digesting this unforeseen turn of events, below me on the first floor my generous British friend is watching a “Breaking News” interruption, joining my club of Blinkers United Who Say “What?”
As I throw open the door and head for the stairs, she’s charging up where we meet in a collision of stomping feet and slack jaws, a great sumo belly clash, screaming nearly in unison, “Did you hear?!” I’m floored. She’s floored. Michael, our affectionately maligned freak, had been swept away from our public attentions, and we stood staring at the TV as if it had sprouted three antennae in a digital world. That’s when I had to ask myself another question.
Why?
Why, for instance, did I feel a sense of loss for a man that had become an oddity for the latest media circus. He was Side Show Mike, the car crash we were compelled to rubberneck rivaled only by Britney. To watch a musical genius fall from the pedestal of worship so irrevocably was our way of telling ourselves that fame wasn’t worth it anyway, so it was okay to be average. But I digress.
I knew why. I grew up with Michael Jackson in my bedroom. His face on my wall, a handsome young black man, happily grinning back at me, arm negligently flung around ET, another childhood friend. His music in my ears as I played my Thriller cassette to ad nauseam, and in my dreams as I jumped up and down on my bed singing Beat It and swearing as fervently as a five year old could, that he was my “boyfriend.” Wacko Jacko was my first crush ever and I loved him so passionately. I grieved for that memory.
Yet still, I must ask, “Why?” MJ dominated the news all that night, and all the next day as every broadcast came and went, devoting 50 minutes to Michael’s memory and the poor two year old that was beaten to death by her mentally challenged babysitter got an entire two minutes notice. How generous. While endless Michael tributes cropped up, Farah Fawcett passed from her war with cancer in relative silence. How many other people that day lost their battle with the Grim Reaper? How many life changing events passed without notice? If he is worthy of the accolades, what deems others less so? They didn’t sell fifty-one million copies of an iconic album? What does it say about us as a society that for three solid days, we worshipped a music legend postmortem with more passion than we cared for our lost children.
Michael Jackson’s passing is notable, his life and music even more so. He was the legend and genius of multiple generations and for that, I still mourn his too early demise, but there comes a time when even I must cry Uncle. I’ve had enough. Bring back the rest of the world and let him rest in peace. Perhaps, he has finally found the only place where he can get some.
Where was I when Michael Jackson died? Let me ask another. Where were we when Demi Mahon died July 17, 2008 at the fragile age of two? Where was I when I heard about her? Watching my fifth Michael Jackson news memorial in 10 hours. She is who I’ll remember when I’m asked where I was when Michael died.
Human beings are fickle, frightening, wonderful creatures. Not long ago, we all wondered with some morbid sense of curious indignation if this pop icon had, in fact, had the capacity to harm children. And for years now we’ve all been waiting with Christmas-morning expectation and barely-contained glee for the man’s face to finally give up the good fight and melt completely away from his cranium. The photos would have had millions of hits, no doubt. But like any “crazy second cousin,” none of that changes the fact that we all loved him. That “Thriller” was my obsession, and that my Barbies dated his action figure instead of Ken. As for the rest of it, it’s too true that too many innocents often times are stolen from us unnoticed. But grief is human, and we are fickle, frightening, wonderful creatures. My thoughts are pulled time and again to the Jacksons, but my prayers are with the Mahons.
Both SobriquetS and DragonBlues make some good points. I think that in part it is human nature to be fickle, frightening and wonderful. I also think that we tend to not want things to change. That’s why we can mourn Michael and focus on only the good things he brought into our lives, and ignore the questionable things he forced us to face.
Not that we shouldn’t face them. On the contrary, we should be highly aware of violence against children. As well as the elderly, women, minorities, and the average white male conservative who gets lambasted for his political views.
We are fickle, and we get complacent much too easily. More the pity.
Very humbling and poignant article.
Whether you liked MJ or not you have to admit that he did influence a number of generations.
His music did affect the other musicians/singers around the world, as to style and content. Some would say “positively”, others would say that he helped “taint” real music.
Michael Jackson was a phenomenon. Take the positve and negatives of MJ’s life and just like Magnets they create an irresistable attraction. The world was drawn to his fame and notariety. Sucked into a maelstrom of creation and destruction the controversy of which propelled him to stardom. Is he Black or White? Is he a Pedophile or not? Is he trying to be Janet or not? Is he gay or not? Is he “crazy” or not? Can he dance or not? All and more of the controversy that surrounded Micheal just fueled the “attraction” of his life. Ask someone in the world who Demi Mahon is and I would venture, except for her own loving family, noone would know who she is. On the flip side, ask who Michael Jackson is and most of the world will know who he is and will probably be able to sing at least portions of his songs.
Here you have a phenomonen on one side and on the other an innocent two year old taken to soon from this world. She living a life which would probably love all the attention, that is Michael Jackson’s life. As is to be expected in a child of two. Yet lacking the “attraction” which Michael Jackson possessed.
Is she any less valueable of a person than Michael? The answer is NO. Regardless of his fame Michael is just another human being that has come into this world and at some point leaves it. Just as Demi has. Both deaths tragic. But yet Demi’s death should be no less note worthy. They are both human and should share the same sorrow, rage, curiousity, notarity and shock in their passing. The death of one human being diminishes us all. We have lost two great individuals. We have loved one and ignored the other. Can we as a society hope to survive with such callousness? Can we continue to ignore the least among us just because she was a “nobody”. The author makes this point well. Demi’s death should be given the same dignity as Michaels for she is no less worthy of the “shock” that was Michaels death.
Good Article.
Excellent point, maybe we all should think!
Excellent article, Sobriquet, well done. I, too, had Michael’s poster on my childhood bedroom and listened to Thriller until the cassette wore thin. Then after that as his image declined, so did my interest in him, and I paid very little attention to him as the years passed. Where was I when he died? I honestly have no idea at the moment. Where was I when Ronald Regan was shot? I can answer that. Where was I when the Challenger exploded? I can answer that one, too. But Michael? No clue. I do know I was much more saddened by Farrah’s death that day, she who bravely fought her cancer battle. Thank you to this author who made me see I wasn’t the only one to wonder why the world is still so disillusioned by MJ. Let him go and focus on what’s more important now, like our children. It takes a village to raise a child.
You are so right Michelle, I’m dating myself here, but I remember where I was and what I was doing when JFK was shot. I was in our high school library researching for a term paper when the PA system activated and the school secretary announced that the President had been shot. I remember being in shock the entire rest of the day. The whole school was. The hallways between classes was almost supernaturally quiet. The next day, however, the buzz of voices seemed to be double the norm as people expressed their feeliings about it.
Same thing happened when the Challenger exploded. Everyone around me’s first reaction was stunned silence, then noisy concern.
These events warrant the stunned reaction, but Michael Jackson shouldn’t, and Demi Mahon should have.