...that I've been geographically closer to Michael Jackson in the past 24 hours than I ever was in the past 28 years... He passed away at a hospital scarcely 3 miles away from where I work -- a hospital campus that I literally drive through several times each month for work -- and is now at the coroner's office scarcely 3 miles away from where I live -- a coroner's office whose door I literally drive past every day on my way to work. Mind you, the hospital and coroner's office are more than 20 miles apart, so it's rather ironic that in his life, someone of my means probably couldn't get within 20 miles of the man, but in death, I can't seem to get very far away from him...
While my parents never allowed me to listen to Michael Jackson's music when I was growing up, Bad was probably the first music video I ever watched (in 3rd grade, during class...), and Thriller and Moonwalker are two of the best music videos (or music movie in the case of Moonwalker?) I will probably ever watch. A surreal end to a surreal life, but man could that guy sing...
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What breaks my heart about his life, and all the more his death, is how little love he had in his world...
Perhaps I just read into things too much, but all his actions seemed to be a plea for deep connectivity; to be considered as more than a voice or a talent, but a human being worth valuing. He was such a passionate person...I wonder if he found Love in those final moments? [I pray he did...>___>] Although...rereading that, I sound either like a stalker or hippie...maybe, even, a dangerous blend of the two. #___#
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