The Day the 80's Died | Writing | Vancouver | Musings, Tangents, Rants

Thursday, June 25th, 2009 | Author: stinkwallet

So it seems to be confirmed– not only has Farrah Fawcett departed us, but also Michael Jackson. On this cloudy day in the midst of our apparent summer, our flesh is not as red as we’d expect and our undies aren’t filled with sand, but we are now part of a world in which Michael Jackson will forever be late to the party.

Memories of a younger me dancing frantically around my living room will never be the same.

The text that spread the news this afternoon confirmed that 13 year old boys around the world would now be safe, and although it’s a tough one to argue, I can’t help but feel a little sore (gross) for the guy. It’s a shame to characterize a man that brought so much joy to my childhood with the news that’s surrounded him in recent years.

Perhaps these past years he was slowly preparing to fully embody the ghost of all of our childhood dancethons by fading into a sickly shade of white; slipping and gliding into an insanity that only he would have fully understood.

For all it’s worth Michael, I will always remember you as the musical genius that you were… The scrawny remnants that remained of you in these times, will always be nothing more than your graceful departure from a life of extraordinary circumstances.