Born today in 1958 was a boy who would be a pop superstar. A guy who would obtain a level or richness and fame unparalleled. At a young age he sang of ABC's and in manhood sang 'Leave Me Alone". An entire life in the spotlight, an entire life under a microscope and entire life that was never 'normal', and in death? We judge.
Without getting too preachy I will say the following. I don't care who he slept with or on. I don't care who he drugged or what he drugged himself with. I don't care what he had altered, buffed, cut, tinted smeared or lifted. I don't care about monkeys or play lands or wine coolers or porn. I simply do not care about Michael Jackson trivia. I don't care about his financial issues, his pajamas or his nose.
Nor should you.
I suppose as a society it's fun to tear apart our heroes. it makes them more human doesn't it?
Makes you and your lame ass office job feel a bit smug 'he sleeps in an O2 chamber!!", you're not weird or eccentrics.
So we pick apart his memory to make ourselves feel a bit less mediocre. " I may not be able to moonwalk but I sure as hell don't bleach my skin."
Michael Jackson was cool as ice. He had a gorgeous voice a fantastic dance talent and one of the most spot on entertainment abilities of all time.
I suggest all you storm trackers, you gossip lovers you pathetic thrill seekers, shut the fuck up and listen to what got the guy to the top to begin with, cuz it wasn't his glove.
Happy Birthday Michael.. moonwalk to the cake table.