Confession of a non-Michael Jackson fan

Photo credit: Yahoo!


June 26, breakfast (Philippine time). Upon turning on the TV to catch up on the local TV morning show that we regularly watch, the news about someone being rushed to the hospital in the US caught my attention. In my half-conscious state I heard the name Michael Jackson. The news updates that followed became bleak and certain – it says a pop icon is dead? “Who died again?”, my mind was still trying to process what was going on then and trying to make sense why all of a sudden the world seem to be glued to the boob tube.

Upon switching to CNN and other International news network on cable TV my question was finally answered. It’s THE Michael Jackson indeed. It is the king of pop. It is one of the most influential and controversial artist who ever lived. And he’s now dead.

Honestly, I felt bad of course after learning about the news. Someone passing away isn’t after all a good news and the fact that this isn’t just a mere someone makes it all sadder. And for his avid fans, needless to say, this is the saddest that it will ever be. (Un)Fortunately, I’m not among them.

I’ve tapped my fingers to his songs, I’ve moved my head up and down to his beats and yes, I’ve even had one padded-shoulder jacket once (not by choice but by fad). And who knows, some might have even seen me do a pathetic moonwalk before. But I’m just never a big fan.

Now with the death of Michael Jackson and everyone almost mourning, I all of a sudden find myself the only one not doing so. All of a sudden I felt left out. All of a sudden, people whom I didn’t expect to be Michael Jackson fans began pouring out their sentiments about what happened to the king of pop. All of a sudden I felt guilty that my avid memories of Michael Jackson are about the jokes that people told and made about him.

I’m now questioning myself where are the people who sent me emails about the black to white transformation of Michael Jackson. Where are the people who joked that the cub scouts need to watch out for the Bad singer (pun intended) rather the bears in the woods. Where are the people who laughed at the hilarious MJ lines of Conan O’Brien and Jay Leno. Where are the peole whose one of their memorable parts (if not the most) of the George Clooney movie, Three Kings, is when one of the villains said MJ’s famous song line, “huhu, hihi”. Where are you now people? Please speak up.

So as I now wait for these friends, contacts, online buddies, etcetera to go out in the open and share what they really feel now that they’ve lost one ice-breaker material, I might as well be on my own and brace myself to be visited and hounded by a ghost coming from the Neverland ranch owner. The problem though that I have right now is whether I’d be on the look out for one that’s black or or one that’s white. Ti abi.


Mood: 4/10 Honks!


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