Remember the time
"Do you remember
When we fell in love?
We were young
And innocent then.
Do you remember
How it all began?
It just seemed like heaven...
So why did it end?"
Words cannot express the sinking feeling I have as I watch all the footage on various media outlets concerning the loss of arguably the greatest entertainer that ever lived, Michael Joseph Jackson. I also am deeply saddened by Farrah Fawcett's lost battle with cancer, and am a little dismayed that her death is eclipsed by that of Michael's.
But admittedly, I was a fan of Michael's longer than that of Farrah's, and Michael's body of work totally obliterates that of any other artist of his generation. His attention to detail was inspiring, his energy tireless, and his work ethic worthy of note. The fact that he is the first of his family to fade away is perhaps an off-putting irony, but fitting in a peculiar way.
Fitting? Why do I say that?
I often wished that I could have been a friend of Michael's. He was a person that I think needed good friends, like the ones I have. He was close to several people, but the man was obviously and painfully alone. In his darkest moments, I so many times wanted to just give that guy a hug, drink a beer with him, or a glass of wine, and just let him know that it was all gonna be good. I realize that he may have heard that alot, but it never sunk in.
Most of us have heard the stories of folks that have befriended him, only to use him and his star for the purposes of their own gain and his defamation. Most notably was Martin Bashir, who interviewed him over a span of eight months and twisted the star's words and thoughts into something dubious and sensational. But Michael's life was littered with Martin Bashirs and others who, in my opinion, took advantage of his kindness, his generosity, his innocent spirit and his light.
I said fitting earlier because if you follow the timeline of Michael's life, you can't escape the thought that the man was tired. All he did was give, and all he got was dogged. Death can only be viewed as a release for this incredible man, and he is probably better off where he is.
As for Farrah...her battle was fought long and hard. She was a bright light that not only illuminated every teenaged boy's dreams, but also gave young girls that spark that said, a decade after Helen Reddy, they were strong and invincible. And all these decades later, she was still giving women strength.
I'll admit, my blog is lopsided today, and Farrah had the misfortune of dying the same day as The King of Pop. But they both will be remembered by me for their goodness and their greatness.
The world was no doubt a better place because of their existence.
Peace.
Michael Jackson
When we fell in love?
We were young
And innocent then.
Do you remember
How it all began?
It just seemed like heaven...
So why did it end?"
Words cannot express the sinking feeling I have as I watch all the footage on various media outlets concerning the loss of arguably the greatest entertainer that ever lived, Michael Joseph Jackson. I also am deeply saddened by Farrah Fawcett's lost battle with cancer, and am a little dismayed that her death is eclipsed by that of Michael's.
But admittedly, I was a fan of Michael's longer than that of Farrah's, and Michael's body of work totally obliterates that of any other artist of his generation. His attention to detail was inspiring, his energy tireless, and his work ethic worthy of note. The fact that he is the first of his family to fade away is perhaps an off-putting irony, but fitting in a peculiar way.
Fitting? Why do I say that?
I often wished that I could have been a friend of Michael's. He was a person that I think needed good friends, like the ones I have. He was close to several people, but the man was obviously and painfully alone. In his darkest moments, I so many times wanted to just give that guy a hug, drink a beer with him, or a glass of wine, and just let him know that it was all gonna be good. I realize that he may have heard that alot, but it never sunk in.
Most of us have heard the stories of folks that have befriended him, only to use him and his star for the purposes of their own gain and his defamation. Most notably was Martin Bashir, who interviewed him over a span of eight months and twisted the star's words and thoughts into something dubious and sensational. But Michael's life was littered with Martin Bashirs and others who, in my opinion, took advantage of his kindness, his generosity, his innocent spirit and his light.
I said fitting earlier because if you follow the timeline of Michael's life, you can't escape the thought that the man was tired. All he did was give, and all he got was dogged. Death can only be viewed as a release for this incredible man, and he is probably better off where he is.
As for Farrah...her battle was fought long and hard. She was a bright light that not only illuminated every teenaged boy's dreams, but also gave young girls that spark that said, a decade after Helen Reddy, they were strong and invincible. And all these decades later, she was still giving women strength.
I'll admit, my blog is lopsided today, and Farrah had the misfortune of dying the same day as The King of Pop. But they both will be remembered by me for their goodness and their greatness.
The world was no doubt a better place because of their existence.
Peace.
Michael Jackson