Now let’s get down to business.
Michael Jackson music videos, to me, were probably some of the best experiences I had as a child. I grew up as an only child, a latchkey child actually, as both of my parents worked. So I was often by myself a lot because, well, I didn’t really have any friends as a kid.
And Michael Jackson proved a really nice, comfortable outlet for me. I ate up his music videos like they were damn tic-tacs. I would go out and rent his videos--before I was able to buy and own--and would spend ALL DAY LONG with Michael Jackson.
Watching him. Cooing over him. Studying him. Scribbling little stories about him.
(Which is why I’m so prolific in my writing of him now.)
I remember, early on, there was a time where I was kind of addicted to Michael in a way. My mother hated it, because every time she peeked into my room, his music was playing or his booty was shaking on my television.
Over my fanhood, I’ve had periods where I would freak over a certain era. In the very beginning, I was crazy for “Bad” and literally could not start the day or go to school without seeing Michael sing “Come Together” at the end of Moonwalker. I liked “Come Together” so much.
God’s truth. I’d be like an alcoholic without booze if I didn’t see him. Angry, disgruntled, pissed.
The “Bad” phase melded into the “Thriller” phase when I was twelve. I finally got the chance to see the “Billie Jean”, “Beat It” “Thriller” and “Motown 25 Billie Jean” videos. And I literally went nuts. Like I had never seen anything like that, you know?
“Billie Jean” with the lighting up sidewalk and the leather suit. “Beat It” with Michael dancing with real street gangs and me worrying if he’s gonna pick a shank out his ass. (I mean Michael was man from the burbs, he was too soft for the “hood”.)
“Thriller”? Forget it! A mini-movie with Michael as the star? And the Vincent Price rap as the topper? I was fucking dying.
Pardon my language, but I was. I mean just the genius I saw emanating was killing me. The more I saw, the more I understood WHY Michael was as huge as he was.
“Motown 25” was a turning point for me. I had waited three years to see that damn performance. See the unveiling of the Moonwalk. I remember sitting on the edge of my bed, my hands to my chest, spellbound. Watching. Scarcely breathing I was so entranced.
That started a three-month long Thriller binge in my house.
For three months, it was 1983 in my house. I watched the videos continuously, watched The Making of Thriller to the point where I can quote it word for word. I had posters made that still hang on my walls. I played the album so much, two cassette tapes broke and had to be replaced. (Usually before I stopped crying.)
I mean I wrote little stories about meeting a Thriller era Michael and everything. I was just wild.
The way I came out of the hold Thriller had on me was one day I saw Michael on TV on some news show. And he looked the way he looked in recent years, thin, pale, long hair.
It came to me that no matter how I run after Thriller Michael, he doesn’t really exist anymore. Michael’s appearance changed and if you’re gonna stay with Michael, love the lighter Michael. If I saw him in person--which I did ONCE-- he wouldn’t like he did at Thriller. And it didn’t matter. Darker or Lighter, I DID love Michael Jackson.
So, practically overnight, I was back on the “recent” MJ train.
Thriller bled into my “Dangerous” passion.
Dangerous was my mom’s fault, damn it.
We went to a different video rental place one day and while I was looking at cartoons my mom came over and said she found another Michael Jackson tape,
While she was picking herself up off floor, I stampeded away, and found Dangerous: The Short Films.
Fantastic.
That’s all I can think to say of that collection.
Fantastic.
It was the first time I ever saw the “In the Closet” video. And I was fucking dying again. Seriously. Michael Jackson, with his hair slicked back, in a muscle shirt? Talking about wanting to give “it” to you?
My head near about blew off at the idea. I wanted to be in the Arizona desert with Michael dancing in the sand!
The thing that really got me was the Dangerous tour montage at the end. The fans going nuts and freaking over Michael.
I was so bad with that video collection…I mean all the time I was watching Michael, particularly “In the Closet”. My mother threatened to throw the damn TV outside if I didn’t stop spending money on Michael.
(Oh, I still spent the money, I just watched Michael to heart’s content while she was at work.)
And I was always constantly looking for more. Trying to find more. I’d hear about other videos like “Say, Say, Say” with Paul McCartney and hunt it down.
I was particularly pissed when I watched The Jacksons “Torture” video from 1984, and found out that “Michael” was his goddamned wax dummy and not him. (That was before I got into Marlon, so I pretty much overlooked him at the time.)
I was fifteen when the “You Rock My World” video, to promote the Invincible album premiered. I remember it came very closely after the 9/11 tragedy and I remember thinking it was ridiculous to put that album out so close after the country had been attacked--and the album did not do well, although the music was phenomenal.
I tried not to think of the tragedy though, and instead focused on Michael. And his performance with comedian Chris Tucker. Great video. Loved it. Watching Michael trying to fight. It was cute and I loved it. For ten minutes, I wasn’t worried if a plane was going to crash into my roof, or that insurgents would come rushing in my door and carry me away. For ten minutes, I was in that little club in Little Havana with Michael, dancing.
I’ll be honest, I said ALL of that to say this. Michael Jackson always provided kind of a fantasy land to play in with his videos. He entertained my fantasies and daydreams and enchanted me in ways no other person could. People need escapes from their daily lives. The monotony of it all. Michael was and is my escape.
I mean he IS what I watch the three hours, three times a week, I’m in dialysis. He makes me forget and I like that.
It’s nice and I’m indebted to him for that.
Till next time readers.
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