Thoughts of MJ.

It was not warm enough to have not put a coat on to go out for recess. Yet some of the older kids were walking around in the early spring sun in only thin cotton t-shirts. I held my skipping rope hoping that some of the girls would want to play with me, include me in their games. I couldn’t play double-dutch. I wasn’t good at it. But I could play all the other rope games. The fact that I had my own rope means they would have to let me play.

A tall boy, definitely at least in grade five came around the corner. He had a large silver-grey old-style boom-box on his shoulder. Everyone was following him. It was like the pied piper. The music that echoed throughout the schoolyard was inspiring. It was catchy. The songs told stories. In that moment, as I followed the sounds of Thriller , I became aware of music.
Later I danced to Thriller for my grandmother. I blasted that music on my small red tape-player that lasted me until university. I remember pepsi commercials. I had a blue and black tracksuit from k-mart that resembled the jacket that MJ wore in Thriller. I remember that video being one of the most fantastic things I had ever seen. It was terribly frightening for someone my age, but I still forced myself to watch it in awe.

The song We Are The World was the song that first impressed upon me the need to have a social conscience. It was a magical demonstration that made me, as a child, feel like the world was a good place.

Although later in my life I found out that Michael Jackson had terrible misfortune befall him, demonstrated some eccentric behaviours, and allegedly was a predator. I still feel that he was a part of my development. His music is something I hear and I remember my childhood. I smile.
For today, as I watch the memorial I will silently thank him for that spring day, when I was included as part of a group, inspired by the same music. The day I didn’t have to ask to play.