Usually I don't do library work at home (okay, that's a lie) but I couldn't wait two days to discuss the passing of Michael Jackson.
I wasn't born during the time of Farrah Fawcett's heyday (though I do think I may have sported that hairdo when it came back in style, and we were upset about her passing). I was too young to stay up to watch Ed McMahon (though I've mentioned him in this blog before). But Michael Jackson...
I remember the first time he did the Moonwalk. I'm certain somewhere in my garage is the tape of it on Beta Max. The crowd went completely nuts. There was an encounter with him in the early 80s in which I could have sworn my sister April actually tapped him on the shoulder. Then there was Thriller. I was both fascinated and terrified of that video. I remember watching the making of it, with John Landis and Michael going over choreography and camera angles. When I went to Chicago for summer vacation there were tons of people sporting the red and black jacket. I even used to have this poster of him up on my wall. He was in a white shirt with a soft yellow vest, and, of course, he had on the glove. I had the little glove charm I wore around my neck. Sometimes I thought Michael Jackson was a little nutty. Sometimes I knew it as a fact. But something I never doubted was his talent. He could sing, he could dance, he could entertain. He was a true showman, whether he was performing at sold out concerts or in front of the world at halftime for the Super Bowl.
He was truly the King of Pop.