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closeMichael Jackson is dead. Hardly news now. He passed away Thursday afternoon in Los Angeles. I’m not a Michael Jackson fanatic. I am a fan, but the idolatry that’s being heaped on his memory is a bit much. After all, he was just an entertainer. His death being compared to the assassination of President John Kennedy is, I think, way over the top.
That said, I can’t dispute the number of titles being afforded to him. He was the “King of Pop” and if there were ever a better performer, and I’ve seen quite a few, I don’t know who he or she is. The current crop of stars are talented but Jackson brought the complete package. He was a trendsetter. How many people would understand who you were talking about if you simply said, “the gloved one”?
His music was phenomenal and memorable to me. “Thriller” was released in November 1982. I had arrived in Macon in July to work, at all things, a radio station. At WDDO, we watched as the sales of the album went Warp six. His previous “Off the Wall” album had done well, but I didn’t expect “Thriller” to sell 100 million units. Some may remember the radio promotion “The Michael Masquerade” WDDO held at the Macon Coliseum. We filled that hall. Kids of all ages, black, white, male and female came out to imitate the gloved one.
The production quality of his albums and videos changed the sound and sight of music. Quincy Jones, the ultimate producer, brought along Bruce Swedien and his Acusonic Recording Process. Swedien, instead of using one track to record an instrument or vocal, used two, giving the production a bigger sound. Listen to any of Jackson’s records and you can instantly hear the difference.
While Jackson’s music was a delight, his life was a wreck. There were rumors and signs of his unhappiness even when he was a child performing with his brothers. For all the little boy smiles, it was easy to see his life was missing something. I think he missed being a child.
Why the Neverland Ranch? Simple, Jackson couldn’t run down the street to pick up a burger or go to a movie, nor could he go to an amusement park, so he built one.
The amateur psychologist in me, and there are a lot of us around, thinks Jackson was lonely. The only people he could trust were children. I don’t know if he molested them or not. I tend to think not, however, his life of innocence, at least in his mind, doesn’t match the realities of the world. Grown men aren’t expected to act childlike, even if you’re Michael Jackson.
Everyone wanted a piece of him, and he gradually started to cut pieces of him away. He transformed himself into a sick disgusting gargoyle, looking nothing like the sweet kid on the cover of “Off the Wall.”
The piece most folks wanted from Jackson was his money, and they got it. The parents who accused him of molesting their son got paid. The mothers of his three children got paid. There wasn’t an once of love in any of those transactions.
I’ll continue to listen to “Bad” “The Way You Make Me Feel” “Thriller” “PYT” and “Rock With You,” however, the song that came to mind after Jackson was pronounced dead and I watched the video of the helicopter taking his body to the coroner’s office was one he recorded in 1993, dedicated to Ryan White, a young AIDS patient, “Gone Too Soon.” One stanza will always remind me of Jackson.
“Born to amuse
To inspire to delight
Here one day
Gone one night.”
Charles E. Richardson is the Telegraph’s editorial page editor. He can be reached at 478-744-4342 or via e-mail at: crichardson@macon.com.
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