Gone But Never Forgotten

In 1984, I had this poster hanging in my bedroom. I was 9 years old and couldn't get enough of Michael. Billie Jean, Beat It, Thriller. He was the coolest thing I had ever seen. I remember running to Goldsboro Bakery with a few coins to buy MJ stickers from a small vending machine they had near the window. I even remember my sticker book...a photo album, sticky pages and all filled with MJ stickers. Hours spent choreographing "routines" to songs out in the grass. Loving Michael unconditionally. And it was all about the music. I never saw race or color. I never knew R&B didn't really cross over very often to the pop charts. Hell, I didn't realize there hadn't been a black artist on MTV before Michael. All I knew is that he spoke to me. The dancing...THE DANCING. I mean, who had ever seen such moves? And we couldn't get enough.

Of course, children age and move on from things they love. I enjoyed Michael's offerings as time passed on, but nothing ever felt quite like Thriller. Then around age 23, I picked up a copy of the Jackson 5's Greatest Hits. And the love affair began anew. And a totally different kind of love. Don't get me wrong, I was familiar with the Jackson 5. I hadn't been living under a rock. But the songs meant something more to me. Something different. Do me a favor and listen to "Maybe Tomorrow". You can find it on You Tube. Michael's probably 11 or 12 years old and my heart wells up EVERYtime I hear this song. And most people have never even heard of it.

To me, the bottom line, no matter what your feelings about MJ's appearance, legal woes, or life choices, is that this man was blessed with a gift. There is no denying it. I only hope that he now has the peace he seemed to be searching for his entire life. And he will live on, through the music, which will always have frequent rotation in my house and for the rest of my life.