remembering michael jackson ...

Reflecting on Michael Jackson's death, I thought back to a piece I wrote in 2003 about the ABC documentary Living With Michael Jackson, which was quite a tabloid sensation at the time. Looking at it again, I'm struck by how much it sums up how I feel about the artist, especially this passage near the end:

Near the beginning of Living with Michael Jackson, [British journalist Martin] Bashir asks him about some of those famous dance steps. After admitting to shyness, Jackson eventually acquiesces and performs a few moves. It's absolutely startling; they're still perfect and precise. It's as if 20 years have melted away and we're all back in the happy '80s. Jackson probably wishes the same thing; he seems so at peace during this brief flicker of magnificence. When art is your release, it allows you to escape the tedious crap of normal life -- insecurities, doubts, loneliness. But when that outlet dries up, when that level of adoration goes away, you're just stuck with yourself, trying somehow to bring it all back.

Sadly, he never got that chance. There are plenty of reasons to criticize Michael Jackson for some of the things he allegedly did. But like I said at the time, even though everybody wants me to hate him, I mostly just feel sorry for him.