Saturday, June 27, 2009

"I didn't recognize you."

Listening to all the news about Michael Jackson's death reminded me that somewhere in my (shudder) basement was an old Michael Jackson doll. Luckily, it wasn't buried under mountains of clutter, and I found it quickly.

I estimate it is from 1983 or '84, when Michael Jackson still looked African-American. It's missing the glove. Sally remembers our son playing with it and like a lot of things, it got misplaced. David is forgiven; he was about nine-years-old at the time and kids lose things.

I notice that Michael's fly is open. Tsk tsk.

I read this morning that Michael Jackson CDs are racing off shelves. It's amazing to me how someone can be looked down on when they're alive and idolized when they're dead. Since his death Michael Jackson has taken over the evening news spots, with constant regurgitations of what is known, and endless speculations on what caused his death.

Last night Keith Olbermann had an eye-opening interview with Jackson's friend, Deepak Chopra, who told that at some time in the past Jackson had asked him to write him a prescription for painkillers, Demerol or OxyContin. According to some sources Jackson had been injected with Demerol within an hour of his death. Even though we're waiting for the tox report, I wouldn't be surprised at all if he died from an overdose. It's true that special people have enablers who make it easy to get anything they want. Elvis had a doctor writing his Rx's; John Belushi had people shoving drugs at him, and according to reports Jackson may have had a live-in doctor getting him drugs.

The other thing that is coming out is how much in debt Jackson was, and how much his estate will make from his death. As they said about Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and others who died prematurely, dying is a great career move.

Jackson was bizarre, and some of the pictures I've seen of him lately make his face look like a kabuki mask, but 50 is far from old, and there will always be those videos that show him at various stages of his life, from childhood on, which will solidify his image in the public mind.

Here's a story I heard:

As a young man Michael Jackson thought he'd die by 40, but he actually died at 21. He went to heaven. He met God and said, "I have a good career going! Why did I die! It wasn't my time!"

God looked in his big book and said, "You're right, Michael. There's been a mistake. You're supposed to have many more years, and die a very old man. I'm sending you back."

When Michael was revived and returned to the world of the living he thought, "Gee, if I'm not going to die when I'm 40 I'd better make the most of it."

That's when the plastic surgery started, one procedure after another, until he didn't look anything like he did at age 21. So after he died at age 50 he went back to heaven and stormed into God's presence. "You lied to me! You told me I'd die an old man. I died too early!"

God looked him up and down for several minutes, then said, "Michael Jackson. I didn't recognize you."

No comments: