This morning at work I had a moment I have only experienced twice, so far, in my life. The first occurred a few years ago at school, just as the bell had rung for the last period of the day, when an older guy ran through the playground literally screaming that Steve Irwin had died. The second time was on the morning of my 17th birthday when I woke up to my Dad telling me Heath Ledger had died. When I was cutting up fruit this morning, I experienced it for the third time. A workmate told me Michael Jackson had died of a heart attack.
At first I dismissed it just as a rumour, a hoax, or figured she was fucking with me. Though on my break, enjoying a particularly sweet Gala apple, I messaged a friend for word on the street, hoping the lady was just a filthy liar. The apple turned out to be bittersweet. She wasn't lying. I broke down.
Now, it's not like I have grown up with MJ's music or anything. I can only faintly remember his last single, You Rock My World, coming out when I was in primary school. No, this aural love affair began six years ago, way back in Year 7, when something possessed me to buy his singles album, 'Michael Jackson: Number Ones'. That same afternoon, with socks on, I began to teach myself to moonwalk around the house.
Every song on that album transported me to a disco paradise in my head, that for some reason looked like Beverley Hills in the 80's, filled with bikini-clad women and lots of swimming pools. It was all so beautiful; from early MJ, like disco-chill-out Rock With You, to Thriller, which scared me with its werewolves howling and vampires growling, all the way to Black Or White, which set my heart burning for an equal world . Michael's spirit had somehow gotten inside of me. It has stayed there ever since.
Don't remember Michael as the pedophile skeleton he was portrayed as in the media over the past 15 years. Remember him as the little brown angel with the killer afro, just singing and chilling with his family. Forever young.
In Year 8 when I got my first mobile, I recorded my voicemail message with Don't Stop Til You Get Enough as the introduction. It has remained the exact same message to this very day.
Michael, if heaven is anything like Neverland, I'll come ride the rides and climb trees with you.
Michael Jackson - Get On The Floor (Holy Ghost! Edit)
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