My Amazon Princess Child

Here's a little story that has been a little warm coal burning inside of me for the past couple of days. On the theme of "no one understands me" quite the way the MJ lovers do...

So Z is my 21 year old--the one who has always seemed years older than her chronological age--in terms of the questions she asked, the thoughts that entered her head, the milestones she was ready to vault over. Not like me. She is 5'10", fun, very bright, very capable. She is very connected to people and has lots of friends and they are always very fine people--she attracts good people. She has a spirit of adventure and has already been to 6 continents. Knows how to rough it and enjoy herself. Last year when she spent a semester in Italy, she went to Morocco on her own. I think especially for an attractive young woman, that takes courage. She knows how to handle herself. She is informed. She has a social conscience and has been active in causes she believes in, like women's reproductive rights. She is loving and caring and becoming more sensitive as she matures--though she has a firebrand side for sure. She is so competent--always had a natural talent for most anything she puts her hand to--art, sports, academics. She knows already how to be herself and be confident in that. Again, not like me--especially not at her age.

The point is not to brag on her. The point is this--sometimes I am not sure how much of me is in that child! She's my firstborn, she challenged me. Then you get the MJ stuff, where the rest of my family might tease me a bit, even roll their eyes on occasion, but she has outright said things to me that created tension and kept up the challenge, "He looked really strange at the end, Mom!" I explained why that might be (and I suspect she's read some stuff because she told me she understood it wasn't his fault) but still, she got to me a couple of times. I didn't like the thought that a kid like this might be impervious to absorbing a dawning truth about MJ. I thought, "Oh, well, I'll never make her into a real lover. She will never really understand or care what he means to me."

But here's what I discovered. Since she was about 12, she has been plastering the walls of her room with photographs of family and friends, drawings, pictures from magazines, quotes, funnies, etc. All her walls are just about covered now with this intricate collage that is like wallpaper. She's added to it some more lately and there's really only inches of space left at this point. She is very sad that one day we will sell this house and that record of her life cannot be preserved because she put it directly onto the walls with glue and tape. But she vowed to finish the job before that happens. It looks really cool, and it really is a time machine of sorts.

The other day I was in there (she's been away taking some summer classes at college) to get a hanger or something, and my eye was caught by a red coat on the wall near the closet...and I look, and there's a big picture, you know the one, of Michael with Lisa Marie, taken from the rear, at Neverland, holding hands, literally looking like they are walking into their own dreams. Interesting. She thinks enough of him to put a magazine page sized picture on her wall. Believe me, she's discriminating about what can go on the wall of her life. 

So I casually looked around to see what else has been going on in there, and hey, there's a photo of young J5 MJ astride his bicycle in his driveway at Hayvenhurst! Wow--that's 2 big pictures of him.

 

Then I see him in jeans and white button down--it's like he's rehearsing something--striking a pose Thriller era....I'm getting a bit excited now, I have to say. I start scanning all the walls. I find him in one of his glorious military red jackets. And again: there's that tender photo of him holding Prince as a chubby sleeping infant and looking adoringly at him. 

This is news to me, folks. She has fewer pictures of Freddie Mercury--like 4, and smaller--and he's been her greatest musical idol to date. But as far as I can tell, she is not riveted by MJ's music beyond Thriller or by his image or by his videos. What could all this representation on her walls mean?

I don't know. But you tell me why I had a smile on my face all day. You tell me why I will keep this little secret from her (that I saw all this and know it's there) and that I will just be able to smile warmly next time she says something slightly snarky to see how it goes over. Yes, dear Z, my Amazon princess child. I know. 

RB and her random thoughts

I had random thoughts too! In my mind I composed a whole message about it all! 

I tend to reliably-repetitively-compulsively-unwaveringly-irresistibly (take your pick, just don't choose "monotonously" because monotonous it's not) go through my "MJForever" playlist when I'm driving my car. I start at the top of Michael's straight up adult solo officially released work. First song is Wanna Be Startin' Somethin', and since I added the posthumous album Michael, the last on is Much Too Soon. Don't ask me why I have to listen to that pure unadulterated lineup again and again--I just do, as I must also watch TII...though one reason may be just the fascination of the evolution Michael went through, as well as the constancy he always had--musically expressed in many variations. There is also the emotional journey that goes with the music--you guys have talked about it. Someone here might have already said, and I know I have believed, that as I go along I am actually feeling Michael's emotion go through me like a powerful ripple--what he felt, I feel as an echo or a reverberation. It's like he left it behind and you can tap into it. It's definitely not always comfortable, and as I always say, I have to brace myself for the emotional content of certain songs, and in the case of History--it's the entire album. That album....you know it's where he really starts to protest...there's not a regular feel-good or love song on that whole thing--if you don't feel intensely to the point of discomfort, I think you're missing something. You're not really listening, you are not allowing it to hurt you. Why do I always think of John the Baptist crying out in the wilderness? I don't know, but I do! Whereas OTW is pure young studly gorgeous sensual joy easing in on you-- exciting you with its magic.

After my listen to that playlist over the past week, today I decided to go back for Chris's remixes--the ones she has sent. They are...well there really is only one way to put it--they are FAS. Not as in Franci, though she can now adopt that and say that's what she means by FAS, but what I mean is: Fucking Awesome Stuff. I really like the things some of these remixers thought of or decided to highlight that help me to hear differently too. Black Or White with Sympathy For The Devil. Listen to Mick's yowls and "NO!" after McCauley says no to his Dad. Michael does not need the musical accompaniment to share the beautiful melody of B Or W over the SFTD tune. And Give In To Me mashed up with Another Day? MORE FAS. Chris, you have got the ear I trust for the remix action, baby! Nothing vapid or pointless. Thank you.

Welp, those were my random thoughts, or should I say, my feelings? It's pure spirit!

The Whole Magical Package

Yeah, you see, like take Michael. You see him and you're drawn in by his magnetism, those eyes, his presence, his grace and aura, his talent and sweetness, his mischief and slyness, the energy and dynamism, the way he moves and so on--the whole magical package. Then you really notice his features and of course, his body and finally you notice what is on his body which inevitably complements it very very well. And voila! the clothes are being worn by the man and not the other way round!