As He Came Into The Window
It Was The Sound Of A Crescendo
He Came Into Her Apartment
He Left The Bloodstains On The Carpet
She Ran Underneath The Table
He Could See She Was Unable
So She Ran Into The Bedroom
She Was Struck Down, It Was Her Doom
Yesterday afternoon at approximately 3:00 PM pacific time, the “King of Pop” passed away. Michael Jackson was a tortured soul and must have lived both a thrilling and a stressful, worried-filled life. While learning his A-B-C’s as a child, he seemed to take no greater joy than being on stage performing. He was a smiling, dancing, happy kid.
After becoming “King of the World” you could see a person that both wanted to heal the world (perhaps as Captain EO), yet despite his success, he had to retreat and isolate himself. He would have to remind himself that he was not alone.
He had odd moments with marriages, odd moments with his own children, and questioned moments with other children.
He was both one of the most celebrated and revered musical artists not just of our time, but in the entire history of the world. But he was also a little off the wall, and confusing to the world. The part that confused me the most, was the fact that by the end of his life, you really couldn’t tell if his appearance was black or white, human or alien. He had multiple surgeries on his face. He just couldn’t help it. He could no longer recognize the man in the mirror.
No matter your perspective–whether your view of him is of a musical dancing genius, or whether you see him as a bad, deranged man– the fact remains that he was a global icon. His popularity went further then just the girl named Billie Jean, but stretched throughout the world. The girls were his, the men were his, the world was his. At the height of his popularity, he could do no wrong. He was invincible. He could even walk on the moon.
He is gone too soon.
News of his death quickly passed around the eInternet and it even caused sites to go down.
News of Jackson’s death spread quickly online, causing many websites to experience technical difficulties under the unanticipated swell of users. Google announced technical difficulties after a sudden swell in searches for “Michael Jackson” led the company to believe it was under attack from hackers, while social networking site Twitter reported a crash after record numbers of users used the site to spread the news of Jackson’s death. Wikipedia itself had temporarily experienced technical difficulties and crashed at 3:15 PDT reportedly due to excessive edits and user overload. Many news organizations were generally very cautious about the initial reports of his death.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Jackson#2009:_Death
As I heard the news, and quickly reflected on his life and death I wondered if he would be remembered as Elvis or Buddy Holly are remembered. Author Samuel Roy has argued: “Elvis’ death did occur at a time when it could only help his reputation. Just before his death, Elvis had been forgotten by society.” You could probably say the same about Michael Jackson. He had become an anomaly to culture. Hopefully his death will make people remember the time when they danced, sang, and just couldn’t get enough of his music rather than the disfigured man, sharing wine and beds with boys, trying to free willy. Will Neverland Ranch become his Graceland?
As I contemplated his legacy, I at first thought that although I viewed him as filthy (in the baseball sense–amazingly good), I didn’t have any sort of connection or tie to his music. But then as I thought about it more, I realized that I have 2 (actually, just thought of a third) vivid memories of his music.
The first was when I was only six years old. It was late 1982 and my family was renting a winter cabin for a week or weekend in the mountains. When I was younger this was kind of a tradition. We had another family come visit and share our time for a few days. One of my brothers friends (I think it was Tyler Monroe), brought with him the new Thriller album. We listened to the album non-stop and even pretended we were making a video for it. I also remember being scared and having nightmares of the title track. It was really a freaky song for a newly six year old boy in a dark musty cabin.
My next vivid memory (both of these memories I can still see very clearly in my mind’s eye), took place when I was in junior high school. It was a Sunday morning, and I was waiting in our Volvo (Volvo for life), for my dad to finish chatting with people after church. It was parked on Martincoit road, along the street, right outside my former elementary school that housed our church. I was sitting there listening to the radio, and Casey Casem’s top 40 countdown. The number one song that day was Man in the Mirror. It was a spiritual moment for me, as I sang and cried to the song. It inspired me that day, to want to make myself a better person, to want to help people, and to focus on my own problems, rather than the faults of others. It’s a trait that I have hung onto and grown my entire life–within each problem, fight, scenario that I might encounter, I look to see where I could have blame so that I can attempt to change that pattern in the future. I think this is sometimes a detriment to myself, as I too often claim more blame than I should. But overall I think it is a good concept. Why blame others and hurt them with anger, when I can find and fix the role I played and build up the esteem of the other person?
The third vivid memory that I have in my photographic memory (or would it now be called a videographic memory?), is my senior year in college. It was a week before school started, and I was hanging out preparing for the year with the other R.A’s in my dorm–Erin, Erin, Angeline, Rebecca and Jon. We were setting up our R.A office (does anyone remember “the Dugout?”), using bleach to clean out the mold in the refrigerator from a long summer. We were setting up our pet miniature illegal turtles (what did we name them? M.J was one I think), and getting the entire dorm prepared for the rush of students and the new year. Our dorm,V.K, was shaped similar to how you might view a Motel 6. It was two stories, rectangle in shape, that all surrounded a large green courtyard with cement walkways. While we were busting our humps cleaning, laughing and enjoying new friendships and experiences, we were blasting in the courtyard Jackson’s album, HIStory. We just couldn’t get enough. It was a precious moment in my life, and along with laughter, love, and hope, Jackson was providing the soundtrack.
There are probably many other moments of my life that Michael Jackson provided soundtrack to. But these 3 are the most vivid. I remember them so crisply and can picture them on a loop in my head. Whether I am 6, 12, 21 or now practically 33, his music and life have been integrated with mine.
Will you (if I have any readers) share any specific memories, moments, or flashbacks that you may have had with Jackson and or his songs? How did he make you feel?
President Ronald Reagan and Nancy in 1984 before receiving an award for his contribution to a drunk driving awareness program.
Started the morning the same way most mornings here in Montalcino would start for me, and that was downstairs at the winebar/internet cafe. It is such a great convenience having it just outside the front door. Almost as convenient as having it inside the apartment, but with better coffe.
could see the pride in both of my parents faces as they discussed this church, its sinking, the art that was hanging, and the statue of peter that was here.
We arrived and we walked amongst the grape vines as she told us some of the history of the winery and some of the patterns of growth. She told us about 
She also told us about pinching the grapes and how they do not want too many grapes growing on any particular vine because then all the energy of the vine is spread out through larger numbers, rather than focusing all its strength and flavors on a smaller number of grapes. We walked up and down some vines, pinching the vines. 
We then went into the barrel rooms where we were gonna taste some of the wines that were in the middle of the aging process as well as some fresh wines.
It was a great experience and I really enjoyed the first hand tour and imparted knowledge.
We piled all 6 of us into the tiny volvo convertable. It was tight. We closed the roof so that we’d be less visible to the local police, and we drove over to Fattoria Resta where we were scheduled to meet and have a cooking class with 
wine. In the cellar etched on the stone wall, was an inscription that was chiseled by the builder, Martin del Nero in 1573. The carving was a humble prayer asking for blessings on the cellar, and hopes that he did a good job tending the land, and that he was sorry if he did not. Anna Lisa was touched by the humility and tenderness of this prayer that she named her wine after him. The wine recently scored 87 pts from the 
It was now time to cook. On top of caring for the grounds, running a winery, having a family, Anna Lisa has a passion for cooking. Today we were going to cook a fine Italian meal together. You may have jumped ahead of yourself and already seen the 
water right in a pile on the table. Once there was a dough, they cut strips and then came the hard part of rolling the noodle. We all tried. Most of us failed. It’s an act of rolling the noodle between your palm and the table so that it becomes perfectly round, shaped like a pencil. Most of us had the problem of squishing it flat instead of keeping it round. It was very frustrating, and a lot of work for a pasta noodle. But I thoroughly enjoyed the attempt, and later the eating.
similar to a fettuccine noodle. This dough we took and spread through a pasta machine/roller over and over till it stretched and thinned itself out. There was more pasta than space on the table so our long strands would sometimes be touching. We learned the hard way that this was not good, as the noodle dough would stick to each other and we’d have to back track a little. Steve and Lisa ran the noodles through the machine over and over till we had a really large flat pasta, which we later sliced into noodles. This was a really fun experience. I once attempted to make a fettuccini noodle on my own back in high school. Without the machine to stretch and thin the noodle, I tried it by hand and rolling pin. I was always proud of myself, but my noodle definetly was thick and not so great back then.
did this till we reached the top, and then we grated fresh chocolate on top. We let it set in the refrigerator till desert time.
