mommy’s little girl
Once upon a time in a far away land (or “lamb” as my daughters would say) there was a little girl with a very musical mommy.
Rarely a night would go by that the little girl didn’t fall asleep to the sounds of Led Zeppelin, Supertramp, James Taylor, Chicago, Fleetwood Mac, Seals & Crofts, Hall & Oates, The Beatles, CCR, Jimi Hendrix, Steely Dan, Stevie Wonder and a whole slew more.
On occasion, the little girl would crawl out of bed, walk down the stairs, peek around the corner and watch her mom dance, cry, sing along or just sit there in the darkness, a cigarette burning in the ashtray beside her; needle to vinyl.
From a very young age, the little girl was asked to sit down with her mom as bands were explained, album covers studied, songs and lyrics understood. The little girl danced, cried (mostly over Rocky Raccoon) and sat staring into space, with her mom.
She was brought up with some of the greatest music in history playing in the background her entire childhood and teens.
Today, the little girl watched the memorial services in honour of a legend. She cried fat tears at the hearse and procession all the way to the moment his pallbearers carried him away.
Today, the grown girl watched a tribute to a man who made her cry and have nightmares for weeks just because he turned his sweet face away and turned back a monster in Thriller. A man who’s poster she stood in front of, closed her eyes and with butterflies, kissed. Her first real live crush – way before she even liked boys.
A man who heavily influenced her and her friend’s own pop-and-lock style of dancing in dark break beat rooms years later.
When the girl heard news of Michael Jackson’s death last week she didn’t flinch. She didn’t read about it, didn’t watch the news, didn’t take part in water cooler conversations, didn’t comment on posts, didn’t listen to old tracks, didn’t shed a tear or feeling.
She marinated in it like a cold slab of meat without emotion of any kind.
The grown girl’s mom came over to her house a few times in the days following, sat her down and basically forced her – just like when she was a little girl – to listen to MJ’s music and watch his dancing. The grown girl argued that he was too weird, too painted, too cut up and sewn back together, too comfortable with kids, too freakish.
But she sat there with her mom just like old times and watched. And it all came back.
~
He was the first guy I ever adored, really.
In a roundabout way, Michael Jackson set a precedent in my own choices about guys I’ve let into my life. From my very first real-life love to now, each and every man I’ve allowed near my heart has shown me some sort of talent, ability, passion or drive over and above the norm.
After today, I believe I have a standard – and that my standard was set all of those years ago when I was way too young to even have a crush; when I still thought boys had germs. Michael Jackson not only gave me the gifts of his music, dance, style and charisma, but also made me look past the face, physique, social status and income of any man – to his passion for something.
Perhaps these are just baked thoughts after an emotional two hours this morning watching a great man be remembered and honoured. Maybe my standards were actually rooted into me by my upbringing, I don’t know.
What I do know, is that those tears I shed today were of a little girl listening to music with her Mom. A little girl who laid out in front of the record player, night after night, studying album covers and reading lyrics – and that it was her favourite place on Earth. A little girl who was so overjoyed when she got to pick a song herself out of the extensive album collection, often picking Michael.
I won’t miss him. But I’ll definitely remember his contribution to my life.
So thank you, Michael Jackson.
And thank you, Mom.
Filed under: heart, music, self | 6 Comments
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Great post. I can’t say I’ll “miss” him either, but I will continue to listen to his music and remember defining moments like his moonwalk at the Grammy’s, etc.
We watched the service live, at the salon (on one side of our iMac monitor, while I worked in a window on the other side of it!). Though it was over the top, that didn’t surprise me. The parts that got to me the most were Brooke Shields, because she dated him when he was still considered sort of normal, and his daughter, at the end.
I am getting a little burned out on all the coverage, though. Let him RIP, you know?
Wow!! so much that you’ve said has resonated with me tonight. Last night’s memorial service was a little OTT for me, but I hear you, I was also remembering back to my early days and the memories of that music… in awe of his talent once again.
Ohhh I had a poster of Michael as well, and here, in this blog, I humbling admit, I smooched him as well. Your entry brought back all sorts of memories for me, things I hadn’t even thought of during all of this.
Here’s to Moonwalking…………
WOW – well written post Jen – not that all of yours aren’t well written……
Although I was older during his hey-day (in my 20’s and early 30’s) and listened to a different sort of music, I’ve always liked his music. He was so very talented, but like so many other artistically talented people, that talent came at the price of being wired differently than most normal people. As the years progressed, that wiring seemed to get further and further off track. It was sad to watch actually, and part of me is glad (?) that he does not have to face his upcoming ‘comeback’. If it would not have been all that he wanted it to be – because of his age, his drug problems, different audience – thousands of factors to consider – being the perfectionist he was, perhaps anything less than what he was hoping for would have driven him further off track. It would have been a shame for this generation to equate him to something less than what he represented to an earlier generation.
I just hope that people’s need to know everything, hash out everything, speculate about everything, doesn’t damage his kids. I hope wherever they end up, whoever they end up with, they are protected from the media crap.
Oh I miss him already. I really do. So many great songs mixed in with the crazy antics. I was numb the day he died. I swear. I just could not believe it. I watched the service and got very sad. that thing was a tearjerker. I admit to losing my dude points for letting it get to me but I didn’t care. It was pretty sad. And I loved the music of Michael Jackson and we’ll never so a talent like this again in our lifetime.
Last line should read: and we’ll never see a talent like this again in our lifetime.
See? I’m getting emotional again.