I seriously cannot believe it has been almost twenty-five years since the release of Michael Jackson’s smash hit album--Bad.
(Michael in his iconic "The Way You Make Me Feel" Look)
Yes, the album was released in August of 1987. (Oh the 80s, how I miss them. Back when music was music, and not bullshit like it is now.)
With the release of “Bad 25” slated to hit shelves later this year, I got to thinking.
I want to blog about my impressions of the album and how it really shaped my life as a Michael Jackson fanatic.
Picture it, the year was 1995, and I had just gotten into Michael Jackson after seeing him in an interview. I bugged the hell out of my poor mother for nearly a month to buy me one of Michael Jackson’s album.
And finally, just shy of strangling me to death, Mom agreed to get a Michael Jackson album for me.
It was just so exciting for me, at only nine years old to go to the record store--which was only a few blocks from my house.
Even though I had been a fan for a only a few weeks, I was in love with Michael from the get-go and hungry to get my little hands on anything that had to do with him.
I remember going up to the counter and asking just as proudly,
“I’d like to see your Michael Jackson tapes, please.”
And I distinctly remember the man laying out the “Thriller” album, the “Bad” album and the “HIStory” album.
I remember scooting the 2-tape “HIStory” album away because at the time, it’s 35 dollar price tag was more than I could afford. (That was before I learned I could choose MJ over food!)
Can you believe I skipped over “Thriller” because I didn’t recognize MJ on the cover. I was used to him only being pale-skinned with straight black hair and it was completely lost on me that the man with the darker skin and Jherri-Kurl was the same man.
So I was left with the “Bad” album, which was the only one with a picture of Michael I recognized.
It was only 10 dollars and I was happy as a clam to have my hands on it. I got out to my mom’s van and yanked the cellophane off of it, laughing because I thought Michael looked all cute in his black leather and buckles, trying to be tough.
Michael Jackson--tough. That’s a gas.
My mom was actually insisting I play the tape and for a minute I was scared because, the album was called “Bad” and Michael did look kind of street. I was so afraid all kinds of curse words were gonna come off of that record. But thankfully, it was so clean you could have eaten off of it. And I played that album night and day, over and over until I literally could take every breath Michael took, make every noise he did. The album seeped into my psyche and melded with my DNA or something. It was in me.
As a youngster, I really didn’t know how huge Michael Jackson was. How big of a deal he was.
I just knew he was gorgeous and I liked how he sang. I mean I was nine years old. I didn’t know.
But I was learned quickly.
It seemed laid out for me that everything I got influenced with that was Michael Jackson in the first three years of my devotion to him were centered around the “Bad” album.
When I was 12, I went to the video rental store and found two VHS tapes that changed my life. “Moonwalker” and “Michael Jackson: The Legend Continues” Both were centered around, what else, The Bad Tour. I can’t tell you how many times I rented and watched those tapes. I am quite certain it numbers into the hundred. I now have both shows on VHS tape and DVD. (Because I’m a freaking awesome fan, of course!)
I mean my summer days were spent lounging in bed or in the den with Michael on TV. I mean it was so weird to me to NOT see Michael on my TV. It was almost like an addiction. I had to see him.
It got so bad, to the point where my mother actually forbade me to rent either tape.
Oh, I still rented it. I begged my dad to get them for me, he did and I’d watch them before my mom got home from work--hiding it under my mattress till the next day. And that went on for YEARS. I rented it so often I felt like it was practically mine and I’d be pissed off if someone else had rented it.
It was just fantastical to me to watch Michael perform and see how a stadium or arena filled up for him. See the fans screaming and crying and fainting and losing their shit over him.
It made me so proud. To stand up and say yeah, I love Michael Jackson, he’s the best (and suck on that!)
I was really smug about Michael as a kid. I mean I was a damn snob. It’s the truth. No one stood up to him to me. I’d always compare other to Michael and it would be an Epic Fail on their part. Like I couldn’t be bothered with any other artists.
While I am a little more tolerant of other artists, Michael is still my number one. Totally.
Back on topic:
Over the years, I’ve collected various trinkets from the “Bad” era. I have music videos, magazines, newspaper clippings, the vinyl, a doll that I had to send to China for. I mean it’s really no limit to what I want to get if I can afford it without starving to death. LMAO.
Even now, looking at certain videos or hearing certain songs take me back to a time of just unbridled glee that Michael provided for me.
People don’t see me too happy nowadays, but with Michael I get happy. And I appreciate him so much for that.
Michael Jackson makes me happy.
It’s the most wonderful thing he’s given me, I think.
And the “Bad” album will live on as my singular favorite album of all time.
Hey Y'all!
I know, as of late, I have been blogging my natural born ass off about the Jacksons. And really, I need to give them a rest and let thier ears stop burning with me talking of them so much.
Beleive it or not, there is actually more to my life than just Michael Jackson and his family. (Gasp and shockwaves!)
I really, really love old films. Everything from silent movies of the 1920 (and even earlier!) to more contemporary things like The Hangover! LOL.
But recently, since I live on Turner Classic Movies, I have started watching the showcases they have every Saturday morning.
Last summer it was ALL the Tarzan movies ever made and after the first 12 I got tired of seeing a man in the jungle in a loincloth.
Now they've begun showing movie theatre serials.
Before we had television and episodes of shows liek CSI and Big Bang Theory and Seinfeld, you had to go to the movies to see comedies and action sagas.
Every week at the theatre a new "episode" would air.
On TCM for four weeks, I sat and watched a serial from 1933 called "The Perils of Pauline" in which a girl travels the globe with her father trying to gather ingredients for a biohazard-like gas. I didn't like it so much cause the ending was so damn anti-climactic I wanted to scream and shout.
Seriously, if this were 1933, I'd be demanding my nickel back at the box office. It was sucky.
But just when I was ready to throw in the towel with the serials, Ben Mankiewicz opened his mouth and announced something amazing.
TCM was going to be airing the 15 chapter serial of Dick Tracy starrying R. Byrd.
I was really excited because I've actually seen some of the Dick Tracy numbers on TCM before and I have admit, it was pretty good.
TCM is airing the spider series in which a gang of bad guy's kidnap's Tracy's brother, gives him something of a lobotomy and uses him for evil. Farfetched for sure, but it gives a good action experirence. And the fighting scenes beat the hell out of Pauline's! Pauline's looked like they were in fast forward with ants in thier butts.
Dick Tracy's fighting looks more real. Though I know it's all staged.
But it really is a good thing with Dick Tracy on now and I suggest if you get a chance to check it out int he next few Saturdays on TCM. At 11 am.
More next time!
Hi Y'all!
In about 46 days, I will be on my way to Houston to see The Jacksons live in concert. And while I am looking forward to it and excited, I am also kind of filled with a sense of dread.
Because I decided, as quite a snap judgement, to go on a diet before the concert. So for the entire monthof June 2012--with the exception of Michael's memorial date on the 25th--Tiffie B. will be dieting.
I have got the idea into my head that I want to wear a miniskirt to the concert. (When my legs haven't seen the sun since the 1990s) and I want to look nice in my skirt.
I mean I'm going to support the Jacksons, who are musical royalty and this is probably the most important thing that will ever happen to me in my life.
So I want to go and show support and look nice. I always feel a Jacksons fan should look nice because the Jacksons themselves are so stylish and fashion icons.
I don't think it will be THAT hard to diet because I already have do many restrcitions with what I can't have because of dialysis and so I'll just hold back a little more..
Me and hunger are old friends. LOL.
I don't know. I'll keep tabs on what I'm doing and what I'm eating and it should all work out. One thing I will NOT give up--even for Marlon ahaha! --is coffee.
I need that desperately, because if I have no coffee, the world has a Grade-A, first rate b*tch on it's hands.
More updates soon!
Hi Y'all.
As many of you might know, I am currently on dialysis and have been since 2009. What alot of people don't know--I'm not sure if I mentioned it--is WHY I agreed to do dialysis in the first place.
I got very sick with my kidneys and throwing up constantly for about 3 months straight, in which I lost 90 pounds and quite literally almost died. Like I was so close to death, that I had actually made peace with God because I did not think I would live much longer. I was malnourished because nothing stayed down--everything, even water came back up. I was weak, blood vessels in my eyes were breaking so my eyes were blood shot all the time.
I was a wreck. And i was tired. By the time I was actually diagnosed with kidney failure, I was vomitting three times a day. It took another three weeks for me t get used to eating and food again.
The docs came around talking about dialysis and at first I was against it. You know I resigned to the idea that I was going to die at the age of 22--I'm 26 now.
Sometime in between going ot the ER, Michael Jackson happened.
Alot of people wonder why I cling so hard to Michael Jackson and his memory and love him and give up so much for him and put so much time into things that revolve around him.
If it weren't for Michael. I'd have been dead years ago.
The only reason I agreed to dialysis was for Michael. It wasn't cause I wanted to live or anything like what a "normal" person would do it for. I started it simply for Michael. Because my father promised to take me to see him on the This Is It tour.
Michael managed to live just long enough for me to get started on dialysis.
Then on June 25, he was gone.
And I've kind of struggled with mortality the last three years, if that makes sense. Because to be honest, if I had gotten a "no" about seeing Michael live, I know in my heart, I'd have turned down the dialysis and died.
Now, I just really kind of struggle with it.
Like I'm here, and Michael's not and I REALLY HATE dialysis with a blind passion.
It is so depressing to me to be in a room full of sick people--who are all enough to be my grandparents. And every so often, someone does drop dead. In three years on dialysis, I personally know seven people who died. i mean I even saw one guy die before my eyes. His heart stopped and he was gone. I'm 26. I should be enjoying the dawn of my life. Not watching other ones end.
I am just in a place where I would like to stop the dialysis myself. I mean, I can't eat the things I want to anymore. It's summer. i'd like to eat watermelon and bananas and ice cream, and too much of any of those can kill me. I'd like to be able to go out places and meet people. The only people I generally meet are in dialysis and I keep wondering which one of us will die first.
I don't want to be ungrateful or sound that way, but I kind of wonder, what is the point to my being here. Everyone else in dialysis have thier lives. You know, husbands, wives, families, careers.
I always feel like I don't belong. All my friends have been through college and are preparing for thier lives and careers--one is expecting a child.
And then there's me.
I'm just here and that's about it. Other people tell me I'm important and things like that, but I don't feel it. I don't feel like I'm making an impact on the world like I'd want. If I was healthy, I'd have gone to college to be a teacher so I could educate the children. That would have made an impact--educating the children. Teach them to read and write and do math. That would have been a joy for me.
Now all I do is write stories for an MJ website. I mean I enjoy writing about Michael and working on the website, but really, if it wasn't for writing the website, I would not get out of bed to find my laptop or sit at my desk top and work.
I kind of smother myself in MJ to not think about dialysis. I have three different story threads on the MJ fanclub. A long story, a thread of horror stories, and a thread of eroticas. And I am ALWAYS trying to smother myself in stories and writing to try to get away from my illness. From the scars on my arms and chest. From the tiredness and lethargy I feel after dialysis.
I write to make it feel like I've done something with my day. I feel like the day is at a waste if I haven't written part of a chapter or outlined a story. Or researched a story.
Really, Michael Jackson is my escape and makes me happy. He is the only thing that makes me happy.
Once upon a time, I wanted to be a novelist to have a life. Now I just live to write.
I don't know if I'm rambling or making sense. But I'm just trying to explain how I feel and how dialysis has made me feel and everything. Maybe someone will understand. I don't know. I just wanted to say this. That's all.
My next post will be brighter--I swear! LOL. Just wanted to be serious for a moment.
I know it sounds completely weird, but it is SO true. Butter literally saved my freaking life today.
Earlier today, I made myself a late lunch of baked cod fish and macaroni and cheese.
So when I pulled the fish out, I stuck it on a plate and went into my room to start eating it. I got maybe three bites in and realized that even though it tasted good and was seasoned well--with lemon and pepper--it was a bit too dry. I had forgotten to baste the fish with butter while it cooked.
I decided to go back into the kitchen and get a couple pats of butter for my fish.
So I went back in my room and started to butter the fish when I saw it.
A BIG HUGE BLACK SPIDER! Just crawling along the comforter like he owned the place.
I screamed like Michael Jackson had suddenly come back to life. I mean I haven’t screamed like that in years.
I was yelling for my dad to come kill it. He finally came and mashed that damn thing for me and threw it away.
It wasn’t until I sat down and got to thinking.
If I had never gotten up for the butter, that spider might have bitten me and even killed me! It looked like it might have been a Black Widow or something.
It really scared the hell outta me. There’s 71 days left before I see the Jacksons and dammit, I wanna see them in good health, not on a stretcher!
