Michael Jackson--A Thought

Here Today—Gone Tomorrow

Like A Castle Built Upon A Sandy Beach--Gone Too Soon

“Gone Too Soon”

-Michael Jackson

I did the moonwalk across my bedroom floor. I posed. I twitched and attempted to dance like the King of Pop. I believed in “The Man in the Mirror”. I knew I could make a change. Michael said so. We could “Heal the World”. If we would all just agree and believe and try to find that common ground—then we could find salvation together and “make it a better place for you and for me”. Those memories remain with me as the passing of a pop icon fills the TV screens and swamps the radio airwaves.

Michael Jackson was vilified by the media for his sexual escapades, the questionable qualms of a strange musician, the never ending nose jobs, the always changing pigment of his skin to the point that he fled the country to find residence in Dubai where he might escape exploitation and mockery. Did his death dull his deviations from the norm? Have we forgotten who he was? Both musician and maniac? Both artistic and deranged? We’ve glossed over his shortcomings in the shadow of his death but as we mourn his passing it would be unjust to forget his shortcomings. To celebrate Michael is to celebrate all he was—the good and the bad—not just as an artist.

Countless allegations have been made to his sexuality—was he a homosexual? Pedophile? Many charges were made—most were dropped. Where does his mental state fit into the picture? It’d be easy to vilify Jackson as a man with a fetish for young boys but how childlike did Michael appear even later in life? Could he not have the mind of a child and prefer the company of children? Strange—yes—but criminal? That’s not for me to say—just to force you to question.

His music is legendary. His dance moves imitated and influenced everyone popping and locking and moon walking to this day. The Jackson 5 were phenomenal and their songs remains popular across the nation.

The nation grieves and many call for a national day of remembrance for his iconic career--but why? Haven’t there been other artists that passed that were just as legendary? Not only artists—but humanitarians and scholars and doctors and scientist. On top of that—what about our soldiers? The ones who voluntarily give their lives? Don’t get it twisted—Michael’s life was as meaningful as the next but it’s unfair to other fallen people to elevate his convoluted life to the level of a saint.

In short—let us grieve but let us move forward. Michael Jackson was an artist and a man and nothing else. He was not a martyr or a saint. He lived, he sang songs that will last forever, and he died. Alone. Because we’d forgotten about him. Because we vilified him and ostracized him.

May you rest in peace Michael. We’ll remember your music, your passion, your brilliance, your zipper jacket and the Thriller dance. But it’ll hard to forget the rest.

“Here today, gone tomorrow—

But I know one thing—

I’ll be one tough act to follow,

I’ll be on tough act to follow”.

-Eminem

Day Eight-Scotts Hill

Scott's Hill... that forgotten peace of Highway 17 between Wilmington and Hampstead. It sits, sad, lonely, forgotten. Outside of my store is a cemetary with a handful of headstones marking the graves of the deceased. Noone visits here. Who lived and died and was buried in this forgotten land?

The parking lot of the store is where someone would have to park to visit. Before the asphalt, white painted lines, and conrete curbs, did mourning loved ones visit here?

This was not my planned post but sometimes you have to the story tell itself.

When was the last time someone came and visited here? The paint store has been here a year and Dan's never mentioned seeing someone come by. I'm sure it's possible but unlikely.

How long do cemetaries stay cemetaries? It's a sad little graveyard too. Only about a doze plots with tired stones. A stone bench out in the midst of them sits complacent and lackadaisic; the wind will always blow and the rain will continue to fall. Did parents come and visit a child? Did children come and mourning a parent? Did soldiers come to mourn a comrade?

A cold November wind blows this afternoon. At 5:00 I'll lock up and head home.

The stone bench sits alone.

-it is what it is-

two years

Yesterday. Two years yesterday since Isaac's accident. Sometimes it feels like it, sometimes not.

I'm headed home to see the fam in a few. One random memory to share however.

Super Mario World on Super Nintendo has 90 levels/boards. For the gamers you know what I mean. Each 'world' has a number of 'levels' before you get to the 'boss'. Feel me? Ok, i knew you would.

Super Mario World takes a while to beat. Even after having played it before, it can be quite a challenge.

One random Friday nite Isaac and I decided to beat it. Not just beat it but complete EVERY SINGLE BOARD.

Started about 7:00 in the evening after dinner, loaded up with Mt. Dew and Fudge Rounds, we went at it.

Mario, Luigi, Candy Mountain, Chocolate River, Cheese Bridge, Get the CAPE!!! You can fly with the Cape!!!, Bowsers a jerk, YOU'RE ALMOST OUT OF LIVES!!! We'll never beat Star World or the BONUS WORLD!!!

at 4:00 a.m................

mission successful. It was beautiful.

RIP Lil Homie Isaac.......

You will never die.

-it is what it is-

RIP Popa

People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura
of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they
continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive.
It is as though they were traveling abroad. ~Marcel Proust

It's gonna be one of those weekends... one of those that you wish you didn't have to deal with; you find yourself looking for a spell to cast to take away the pain.

Amy's granpa is near the end of the line. It's only a matter of time and they're really expecting it to happen this weekend. I'm not sure what to make of it.

He's a good man; when I say 'good man' I mean a man of character and faith and hard work.
Popa has been there for Amy and I, especially for Amy.
It's hard to say good-bye to someone for the last time.

I've been to too many funerals for people I know and care about. The difference is I never got that chance to say good-bye. For my faithful 8.3 readers, say a prayer and think of us over the weekend.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me.
The Carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality
~Emily Dickinson

three plus 1saac

I have three brothers. One is older and two are younger. My youngest brother, Isaac, passed on August 3 of 2005. Here lately Isaac has been on my mind.

Few people realize that Isaac passed and I felt like I should plug him in here.

Isaac was 18 when he died, just graduated high school, valedictorian of his class and had plans to go to Campbell to major in ....something.

He could play any number of musical instruments, knew everything, was a fantastic speaker, and the best little brother someone could have.

It's hard for me sometimes because Isaac was born the day before my 6th birthday so his birthday and mine were always celebrated together.

Isaac would have been 20 two weeks ago... and I wonder who he'd be today. I know he'd be making all of us proud.

Miss you little homie...

RIP James Isaac Shelton... 3/5/87-8/3/05

-it is what it is-

"It ain't fair you died too young
Like a story that had just begun
The death tore the pages all away
God knows how I miss you
All the pain that I've been through
Just knowing no one could take your place
Sometimes I wonder who you'd be today
Would you see the world?
Would you chase your dreams?
Settle down with a family?
I wonder, what would you name your babies?
Some days the sky's so blue
I feel like I can talk to you
And I know it might sound crazy"
-kenny chesney-