Two icons from my childhood are dead and I feel strangely unaffected.
First, let’s discuss the one with the bad plastic surgery and bizarre behavior. Oh, I guess I should be more specific.
Farrah Fawcett’s famous poster came out in 1976, my sophomore year in high school, so you can bet I was no stranger to it. Most of my friends had Farrah’s poster in their bedrooms and I admired it many times. But my own wall was adorned with Raquel Welch’s “10,000 Years B.C.” poster.
Sure, Farrah was hot — but kind of ditzy and plastic for my taste back in those “Charlie’s Angels” days. She eventually became a better actress – but her off-screen behavior was ditzier than ever. I just never really connected with her even though she was a native Texan.
Michael Jackson was closer to my age; we were born a year apart. A 45-rpm copy of the Jackson Five’s “ABC” was in my record stack as a kid and I watched his television performances on “Ed Sullivan” with my parents. Later, in my 20s, I wasn’t much of a dancer but his “Thriller” songs during the disco days could get me on my feet.
And I’ll never forget his live performance of “Man in the Mirror” at the 1988 Grammy Awards. That was magic.
But again there was a disconnect. The plastic surgeries and odd behavior and obsession with little boys… . I couldn’t relate.
Oh, well, I wish both Farrah and Michael happy days in the afterlife, if there is one.
it sounds like you missed out on a lot of jackson’s career. http://tinyurl.com/MichaelJacksonPortal there is plenty to remember him for and to get you back up on your feet even though the disco days are long gone!
I can totally relate… to your opinion.
I don’t see what all the hubbub is about ether.
I hope these two people rest in peace and my sincere condolences to their loved ones, but the fact is, nice, good, smart, pretty and talented people die every day.
After such a strange and unhappy life, Michael’s death seems like a stroke of mercy, though it would have been more merciful had it come 10 years ago.
All the bad stuff that happened and the things he did (or didn’t do) will be raked over in the weeks to come, but right now his amazing talents are being celebrated. I remember those days when MIchael Jackson was one of the most famous people (never mind musicians) in the world, and one summer when I was a boy hearing “Beat It” everywhere I went. I just read a striking anecdote in which Fred Astaire watched Jackson’s 1983 moonwalk on TV and described him as “an angry dancer.” There was an element of rage in his “Thriller” days that made him compulsively watchable. The last really cool thing he did was his guest turn on “The Simpsons” back when that show was just finding its voice. I couldn’t find video of him as a crazy 300-pound white guy singing “Billie Jean,” but I’m sure it’ll surface. (Homer is astounded by his dancing, asking him “How do you do that thing with your feet?” “You mean the moonwalk?” “No, the thing you do with your feet.”)
Well, the long, sad, drawn-out decline into mental illness and God knows what else is now over. Rest well, King of Pop. Your fabulousness commanded the world’s attention for a while there.
As Teresa and I were discussing Michael Jacksons rise to popularity and increasingly strange personal life over dinner last night. We came to an plateau of realization which would explain his position with some great understanding. A turbulant life, Michael was subjected to years of physical, mental, and sexual abuse at the hand of his sociopathic father Joe Jackson. The profound effect this would have on his psyche alone can explain the surgeries, masks, and outlandish behavior. We believed that somewhere along the way he had a psychotic break with reality which manifested itself as personality disorder. This is oppitimised by his compulsion to wear masks to put on his character for the people. His obsession with young boys can be explained in three ways; First he never had a childhood so when he was able to he decided to relive it. Second because of his psychotic break and personality disorder, he would associate with children to help himself refind who he was or should be. Finally we believe that the reason he was so obsessed with young boys is that he was in fact still boy. We came to realise and accept that there was an extreme possibility that he was castrated as a young teen. I wouldn’t put that past Joe Jackson, and I believe the family take that secret to the grave. But if we examine logically facts about his life choices, size, stature, vioce, singing pitch, and overall apperence in relation with his other siblings it seems highly probable to say the least. That bieng said, I submit to anybody reading comments on this article that Michael Jackson was in fact a eunuch!
ouch … is that why he kept grabbing at his crotch area? phantom pains from the castration?
Don’t feel too bad about not connecting with Farrah even though she was a native Texan. I can think of a very long list of native Texans that fit that bill.
I haven’t been this uneffected and overexposed since Princess Di.