Gone Awry

Like everybody else who isn't hiding in a cave with bin Laden, I now understand that Michael Jackson is gone. And, for about the fourth time this week, surprised myself by being saddened and angered at the same time on hearing some piece of news or the other.

When you watch somebody grow up as I did Michael Jackson, you feel your existence is at least a bit intertwined with theirs, no matter how far removed Bel Air is from where you may be living, or how different you might be as people. [ I promise you - Bel Air just isn't the neighbourhood where I hang my hat these days]
At 15 though, my first real commercial art gig was executing a giant Jackson Five poster for the local record shop in our Texas town. Not a big Jackson fan, I was still rewarded with the new album my handmade poster advertised and the amazing sum of $25.00. This was dead swanky money back in 1972 [ or so- I'd have to look it up] He was two years younger than me and I sort watched his progress from a distance over the years, the way you would some kid who sat behind you in math class. Feeling sort of kindred, a little bit connected - just because you were both young, both waiting for your lives to begin, hopefully about to turn some unknown corner which would propel you into exciting, sophisticated adulthood.
The aforementioned anger came about for one reason. I mourn the life he could've had, not the one he lived. Before he'd turned six he and his brothers were subjected to an incredibly demanding concert schedule, relentless rehearsals and nothing but rebukes from their outrageous father Joe. There was little childhood to speak of, and whatever latent weirdness may have languished in the Jackson genes -dormant under the rafters- was forced into bloom by the cruelty and selfishness of the elder Jackson. Michael and his siblings all reached adulthood somewhat odd, very uncertain of their real worth to the people around them. It's a tragic thing, alright, and I am very, very sorry about the Jackson family's loss tonight. Things could've been very different and I wonder if his siblings are talking quietly among themselves right now, in hushed tones about the same thing.
I watched as long as it took to emotionally process the sobering news, then started flipping through the channels. All Michael Jackson- all the time, as it will be for the next week, probably. Finally in exasperation, I turned to the BBC. Respectful but brief, they had put together a 6 minute obit from file tape, then moved on to other world news. Tomorrow, here in America, the House votes on a proposed energy tax bill which -if passed -will raise this country's energy and gasoline bills to an unprecedented, unpayable rate. The budgets of ordinary families will be destroyed, for all practical purposes.
Iran is still on fire, it's news organizations still blacked out, probably under threat of death... or worse. North Korea is busy building a missile launch pad, it's payload directed in the vicinity of Hawaii. Yes, other things are happening in the world. All bewildering, all leaving the observer feeling helpless and rather impotent.