The story goes like this: Elvis was attempting to stay relevant in the world of showbiz and had scheduled a tour to begin in August 1977. One of his tour dates would see him performing in Hartford, CT and my parents fought tooth and nail to get a hold of tickets. Elvis was an icon of their generation and no matter how poor his performance on stage was due to drugs and weight gain, they simply didn't care. Their affections for him, his music and all things Elvis canceled out all his shortcomings. This was a chance to see their hero live and in the flesh and that would make the milestone.
Unfortunately, Elvis died before starting that tour and my parents were devastated. They had each told me, on separate occasions, how gutted they were and just couldn't believe the news. They spoke of how they spent the next week (possibly longer knowing them) in a sort of catatonic state. How could such a thing happen?
Naturally Elvis was before my day but the level of sadness my parents felt at the time was still evident in their their voices years later. I knew Elvis was big and I knew he had issues and I could somewhat understand the devastation. My father was a musician and my mother, for all intents and purposes, was his groupie. Clearly they were both passionate about music. The visceral impact did not register with me because it was simply beyond my realm of understanding. I had not been able to know Elvis over the years such as they had. I did have another icon that was with me through the years to listen to and his name was Michael Jackson.
Michael Jackson was the beginning and end of music for me and many others who grew up in the 80s. He was also a favorite of many of our parents who knew him as the energetic front boy of The Jackson 5. He had firmly planted himself in the collective consciousness of two generations and (arguably) even a third with his later follow ups. Thriller was the album to have. If you didn't have it, you were on another planet and it wasn't a good place to be. Every song was gold. I ran out and purchased his follow up, Bad, with my allowance money and loved that one too. Not as good as Thriller but still very cool. This is a man that MTV didn't want to have on their airwaves yet he went on to MAKE MTV what MTV is today. His videos weren't just videos, they were events not to be missed! High end spectacles of dance and special effects that stayed in the memory and had people talking. Everyone would try to moonwalk. No one succeeded. He was a great humanitarian bringing artists together for "We Are The World" and more. Men tried to capture his charisma by donning the jacket featured on the "Beat It" video and, if they were daring, sport the jerry curls. They all looked foolish. There was only one man that could pull off the look AND wear a glittery white glove with matching socks: Michael Jackson himself. And that's just the way it was.
Aside from shattering color barriers and getting everyone of every imaginable social strata up and dancing, he had troubles. We all know about the molestation cases and some people began to take the allegations as fact. I can understand that. It's a VERY bad idea for a man to be having boys over his house for sleepovers no matter how innocent it may have been. Jackson had his own issues growing up which created a deeply flawed man. While the very disturbing accusations dogged him throughout the 90s and into the millennium, I remained unconvinced and still do to this day. Too many holes in the parent's stories and too much motivation to grab money as opposed to justice. If you look up the details of the cases, you can see how Jackson opened himself up to all sorts of legal woes if the wrong parents got their kids inside the Neverland Ranch.
In spite of all of this, countless celebrities flocked to his defense. His mainstream appeal faded but many of his songs lingered on my iTunes playlist. Yeah, Jackson's antics and never ending plastic surgeries overshadowed his music toward the end and made him the butt end of many a joke, he was too easy a target. But in the back of my mind, along with many others, lay hope. There was still one great album left, one final swan song, one crotch grabbing, moonwalking, spin around on the dance floor hit waiting to move us. Sadly, his sudden death didn't allow these hopes to come to fruition. Michale Jackson has left us and we have quite a musical legacy to to enjoy, they are wonderful gifts. I've been hearing so many of his songs that I grew up with on the radio lately and it's been an incredible trip for me. It took me back to a simpler time and I miss aspects of that period dearly.
You can tell me I'm superficial for lamenting the loss of The King of Pop or placing anything of pop culture into a category of importance. I've given you anything but superficial here over the years. You can bitch me out for feeling profoundly sad over the death of someone I didn't know personally. You can try to one up me by declaring what an important life you have and that it requires you to worry about "important" things. You can talk about how you don't care yet be a total hypocrite and wind up hitting the dance floor the second "Billy Jean" comes on, offending us further with your awkward, labored gyrations. You can ramble on about the criminal accusations if you must. There's one thing around the world that has risen above that nonsense and will always rise above it. It's something that's very real and won't die: it's his music.
Yes, now I understand what my parents meant about Elvis. And what a sad lesson it's been.
