Off the Wall

Michael Jackson died on June 25th, 2009. I have been wanting to write about this for weeks now, but have been unable to do so until now.

I loved Michael Jackson. His talent, drive, charisma, and remarkable showmanship, often sent chills down my spine. You knew you were watching a great in action. There was the days of ABC, 123 when I was a little boy. Off the Wall will forever remain my favorite album of all time for its sheer electricity. The release of Thriller was time to behold, and to be glued, to MTV. My first concert was The Jackson's Victory Tour in the summer of 1984.

I've got soul, and I have always loved his music.

Then it went away. I went first, losing interest in Bad and the later albums, as his life became more about theatre and less about music. He went later, due to rumor, allegations, and innuendo. Finally, the passage of time.

Then, suddenly, he was gone and all that was old was new again. His death, has stayed with me, moreso than any I have experienced save for my grandfather. He too, who passed far too young in his life and for my own selfish reasons that I've pondered about through the years.

Michael is magical. That will forever remain. He was able to reach people, in a style and fashion that he was most likely unable to reach himself. I have gone back to the tapes, and the videos, pictures, and all. The talent, raw and real, was always there.

I can empathize with Michael Jackson, if only because I can relate to the distance and loneliness he must have felt. The passage of time, and pain that does not go away but goes numb.

We all live. Our lives unfold before us, decisions we make and the fate of chance, and we are left to move forward.

I will always love the sound, dance, and passion of the artist. RIP Michael. May you find peace and better days.