Why I love Michael Jackson

Many of you know that I am in love with Michael Jackson. You also may know that I had a very hard time dealing with his death, even as recently as his interment last Thursday. But you may not know why I love him so. Truth be told, I didn’t understand it until recently, when I finally took the time to examine my thoughts and feelings. I acknowledge that the pain I felt after his death was (is) not normal. So I’ve done some deep introspection to analyze these feelings — and, to be honest, to make sure I’m not going just a little bit crazy! Here’s what I’ve realized…

Michael Jackson was my first love.
I tried to remember my very first instance of adoration for MJ. I really can’t remember when I first knew of him. He was always there. But I remember thinking he was pure perfection around the Off the Wall days. This album — Michael’s best! — was released on August 10, 1979. I had just turned 7 years old. My mom was a music junky who, every Saturday, visited the Record Bar in Tower Mall. (Portsmouth natives, recognize your history! LOL!) So I’m pretty sure that we owned Off the Wall no later than August 14, 1979!

I can recall listening to that album ALL THE TIME while gazing into Michael’s perfect album cover eyes, reading the lyrics written inside (it was one of those albums that opened up), and dreaming of being Patti Austin (“It’s the falling in love, that’s making me high…”). I remember learning about Quincy Jones and Rod Temperton just because they knew Michael. I remember HATING Brooke Shields! (That hatred would grow after Thriller.) And I remember believing with all my heart that I would grow up to be Mrs. Michael Joseph Jackson.

To me, Michael was beautiful. I loved his skin tone, probably because it was the same as mine. I loved him with his original nose and afro, but I must admit, I thought he was PERFECT after his first nose job and original jheri curl. I loved how thin he was. I loved how he looked in his clothes. I loved how, as my mom and sister Tanja say, he could “hang a suit.” And 30 years later, that is still my type! My friends always joke about my love of skinny men with large craniums. (I think large heads hint at intelligence.) It all comes from Michael!!! He defined the standard of male beauty during my formative years. And that standard has been very difficult for others to meet.

Michael Jackson made me love fashion.
By the time Thriller was released in November 1982, my love was deep and it was real. My family was so over my obsession! At 10 years old, I hoped and prayed that Michael would wait for me. We just had to be married! I honored him at age 11 with a jheri curl of my own. He combed his curl, which you weren’t supposed to do. So I risked the wrath of my mother my combing mine to get it just right. But I stopped short of brushing down “baby hair” out of fear that I wouldn’t be able to get it to curl again.

Then there were the buttons. Oh, the buttons! I wore Michael Jackson buttons to Alf J. Mapp Jr. High EVERYDAY! I would cluster them around my left shoulder and chest. To switch things up, I would run them down the leg of my pants. (The other kids thought that was cool! Maybe that was the start of my accessories obsession.) Then, for Christmas 1983, my sister’s then-boyfriend and future husband gave me my most coveted gift ever: a pair of sequined socks with matching gloves! Oh, to be able to locate those now! Then the worse thing ever happened: Alf J. Mapp outlawed the wearing of one glove!!! Either two gloves or none at all. And no gloves during class. If only 6th graders were mature enough to organize, there would have been a mutiny!

I really enjoyed many of Michael’s ensembles — although I must admit that I didn’t love everything. I loved the sequins — especially the black sequined jacket worn on Motown 25 special, which I recently learned came from his mother’s closet. (Innovation and vision!) I loved the colored jeans. (Who didn’t???) I loved the fedora. (I may wear mine tonight!) I loved the loafers. (Wore them from junior high to high school.) But I hated the later clothes, like the gold lame’ body suit from the Dangerous tour (how dreadful…) and the high-water pants when not performing (too contrived). But even with the misses, Michael taught me to be different. To have fun with clothes. To ignore the rules. And he inspired my motto: to be just a little too much!

Michael Jackson personified excellence.

To quote music journalist Toure, Off the Wall is a perfect album. There is not a bad song on it. There is not a mediocre song on it. (OK, maybe “Girlfriend” is mediocre. But that’s just one!) This was a man who did what he did with excellence. I would soon learn that his goal was to be the absolute best at what he did — a goal he achieved way too early in life. This is what I was being taught at home: that I was not made for mediocrity but for excellence. That was my mother’s expectation of me, and I knew it from the first grade when I was moved out of the “regular” class to the advanced class. The expectation was to be the best, and I did not want to disappoint. In one way, my mother was from the Joe Jackson School of Child Rearing in that I never received special recognition for being the best in school; that just meant I met her expectation. For that, there is no reward.

Michael was a man who was about the work of becoming the best. Early on, I tried to match his drive. But then I realized that I was driving toward an unknown goal — one that is still unknown. It’s tough to run a race with no finish line. And I think Michael realized that he’d crossed the finish line by age 35. What is there to aim for after you‘ve won a race while your competitors are just trying to find their way to the track? I think he had a hard time finding a new race to run.

 

Michael Jackson made me proud again to love Michael Jackson.
Once I got to high school, it was no longer cool to love Michael Jackson. I held on for as long as I could. He released Bad on August 31, 1987 — just after his 29th birthday. He sounded the same, but he looked so different. I defended his ever-fading melanin and long flowing hair. I liked his crotch grabbing even if it made me a bit uncomfortable. But as I was defending Michael and his still-superior pop sound, hip hop was taking over the air waves. Run DMC was declaring that they were “not Michael Jackson and this is not Thriller!”

Then, in 1988, I found a man who was the antithesis of MJ, and his name was Chuck D. Chuck was ultra masculine. He told me that he was a black man and proud. That he was “raw bone like a razor.” Oh man! I wasn’t use to this! My first love never spoke like this! I liked Chuck’s edge…and the boys in school liked it too. Had I found a new love? Could I love two men who were so different?

The answer was no, I couldn’t. I’d moved on from Michael. Our 10 year relationship was over. But I stayed in touch with his every move. I tolerated the marriage to Lisa Marie. I rejected (and still reject) the allegations of abuse. I watched the 2005 trial daily, sending positive vibes and love to the man that I had abandoned but never stopped loving. I watched the farce with Debbie Rowe, was confused about the white children, and understood his fierce protection of their privacy.

But then in 2008, I watched the crafting of his comeback as he began to retake his rightful place. His Ebony photo shoot at the Brooklyn Museum made me proud. He seemed confident and regal (and his hair looked fabulous!). He released Thriller 25 with the hottest names in music. And there were rumors of him being in the studio. And then, the announcement of the This Is It! tour. I was so proud! I remembered why I loved him so much.

I won’t go into my feelings after June 25, 2009. My world literally changed. The man I’ve loved longer than any non-relative was gone. And I was devastated. But now I remember what real love feels like. And I remember how strong I felt under Michael’s influence — when I believed I could do anything. I believe that once again. I owe it to him to be brilliant. To be fabulous. To be extraordinary. To be excellent. To be just a little too much.