While I was out this morning, just browsing around the shops, I noticed that, here in the UK at least, Michael Jackson's album The Essential Michael Jackson is top of the charts.
The thing is, although I have a digital copy on my pc of practically every song and album he ever recorded, I couldn't resist buying this album because of this:
Not only did he have a beautiful voice, but at one time, he was a very, very beautiful man. Despite all the success he achieved, it all just feels very sad, doesn't it...
The 13th waxwork of Michael Jackson has just gone on show at Madam Tussauds. It was apparently started around four months ago and was intended to go on show to coincide with the start of his massive "This is it" concert tour here in London.
It isn't an up-to-date waxwork, i.e. it doesn't depict Michael as he was at 50, but nevertheless it is beautiful.
Among many moving moments at the Memorial Service, I suppose the most emotional was his daughter's words right at the end. Unrehearsed and apparently right out of the blue, she just got up and told us all how much she missed her father and how very much she loved him. Unfortunately, there are many of us who know how she feels after losing a father.
I can't put a video of that on here, so this is a video of Queen Latifah reading a beautiful poem about Michael written by one of my favourite writers, Maya Angelou...
We Had Him
by Doctor Maya Angelou
Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing, now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind.
Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace. Sing our songs among the stars and walk our dances across the face of the moon.
In the instant we learn that Michael is gone, we know nothing. No clocks can tell our time and no oceans can rush our tides with the abrupt absence of our treasure.
Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him.
He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.
Despite the anguish of life, he was sheathed in mother love and family love, and survived and did more than that.
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.
We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.
He raked his hat aslant over his brow and took a pose on his toes for all of us.
And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.
We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing. He gave us all he had been given.
Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Black Star Square.
In Johannesburg and Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama, and Birmingham, England
I think everyone was expecting the news that the brave battle Farrah Fawcett had been having with cancer for three years now had ended and that the cancer had finally won. I think it was lovely that she got back together with Ryan O'Neal before her death and I really hope that she found great comfort in having him around for the last few years.
Rest in Peace, Farrah.
***
So, to the shock. Michael Jackson is dead. Apparently from a heart attack.
I was a huge fan. Firstly, of The Jackson 5, then The Jacksons and lastly of Michael when he went solo and became the huge success that he was. I, like the rest of the world, loved him. He was the most fantastic entertainer at that time.
Later though, I just couldn't get passed all his strange and very questionable behaviour with kids, both his own and all those others he invited to his home for playtimes and sleepovers. I know, I know, he was never convicted of any wrongdoing, but after all that I found it impossible to feel the same way about him.
What I can't help wondering now is, did he take an accidental overdose of those prescription painkillers he was apparently on causing the cardiac arrest or, dare I say it, was life so stressful for him with the pressure of his getting older and that massive upcoming UK tour cause him to do something unthinkable?
I don't know. What I do know is that it proves, yet again, that success and fame can come too early. That childhood can be stolen and it's never good. Money and success are NOT enough to live a happy life. You need lots of love, freedom and a huge helping of luck for that to happen.
Artist and photographer. Lover of G&le H&r@ld, some humans, dogs and cats. Avid fan of art, diets!, films, food, music, photography, plays, politics, reading, tennis, TV shows and a million other things, some of which are talked about at length here...
