Yeah, I know. Haven’t posted here in forever. Well, seemed like a good (or bad) day to do so. Michael Jackson died suddenly today, and Farrah Fawcett died not so suddenly today. Ed McMahon died a couple days ago, too. Three people that I remember a bit about while growing up in the ’80s — laughing with Johnny and Ed late at night, Farrah in Cannonball Run and other things, and who can forget Jacko’s music? It’s been an odd week, indeed.
Like many, I grew up with quite a bit of Micheal Jackson’s music, back before the craziness, back when people still proudly said that they were a Michael Jackson fan. Like with a lot of things, I never really thought of myself as a “fan,” per se — I never really get very hot or cold when it comes to entertainment — but if you can tell your influences, likes and dislikes by looking back years later and seeing how much you really paid attention to various things, I’d have to say I was definitely a fan of MJ’s music. His crazy life — not so much. All the stuff with the Beatles song rights and stuff? Not so much. But the music — that was genius. No denying that. Before he was writing, his execution was genius. Afterward, both the writing and the execution were genius. Michael Jackson and other members of his family transformed the art of the simple pop song, not dissimilar from how the Beatles changed it back in the ’60s. For a little while in the ’70s and ’80s, the pop song was a little more than a pop song.
Well, I think I’ll listen to an album or two, and maybe watch Cannonball Run again, and think of how another little bit of childhood is gone.