I was never a huge Michael Jackson fan. As a very, very white kid, I knew that I’d never be able to moon-walk like that. I’d never be able to hit those high notes, no matter how much helium you gave me. No, Michael Jackson was never really what you would call a role model for me. But if you ask me if I respected him and what he brought to American culture, my response would be a resounding ‘yes!’
Michael Jackson has had some of the biggest influence on the way we view American pop-culture today. Before Britney’s balding and Lindsey’s almost applaudable levels of intoxication, there was Michael . . . who was in the media spotlight, for good and bad, long before these girls even dreamed of appearing on the cover of tabloid magazines.
His stage performances were unbeatable, his skin and facial changes were inescapable, his media-frenzied baby-on-the-ledge incident was intolerable . . . yet all those things made MJ who he was: a pop icon/infamous media target.
He’s taken a lot of heat over the years.
And who knows how messed up anyone could be after living a life that was, for a majority of its duration, in the spotlight?
It was a short life for a man with so much talent and yet surrounded by so much controversy. But on a final note for a man that I never really had too much interest in, but had a deep-founded respect for . . . barring all the media shenanigans, odd plastic surgery and skin issues, and just overall oddities . . . congratulations on being the King of Pop, you were an amazing performer who clearly had a haunted soul. RIP.