I'm in L.A. to hang with my friends and play some shows, but despite the Pacific breeze and the bright rays of the sun, it was a very, very dark day on Thursday, June 25, 2009.
While shopping on the Third Street Promenade, around 2:30pm PST, I received an abundance of phone calls and texts about rumors involving Michael Jackson - my childhood hero, my everlasting musical influence, my King of Pop. Shortly thereafter, my iPhone battery dwindled down in juice due to constant Google News refreshing, I heard the confirmation:
Michael Jackson was dead.
In 1984, the Vancouver Sun Newspaper was holding a contest: Draw "Michael Jackson in Action" to enter in a chance to win two tickets to The Jacksons' Victory Tour concert at B.C. Place. I was 6. I gathered my pencils and crayons and drew what I thought was my Mona Lisa. My Mona Michael, if you will (cuz I will). It was the greatest creation I'd ever concocted in my six years of life.
I was the youngest contestant to enter and I not only won two tickets, but the local news came to my house to see me dress and dance like MJ, and I was invited, along with the other winners of the contest, to come and meet Michael and his brothers.
So my father brought me to B.C. Place. I wore a "Beat It" jacket, one sequenced glove and oversized aviator sunglasses. I remember going to the stadium and meeting the other winners, all of whom were at least twice my age. And I remember getting up to go backstage to meet the Jacksons. Unfortunately, I don't remember the rest. My father claims we met Michael Jackson, but I must've blacked out because I don't remember a second of it.
Then I saw my first live concert and, at 6, was already convinced that Michael Jackson was the greatest entertainer on the planet. He could sing. He could dance. He could make a stadium full of tens of thousands of people go crazy just by moving a finger. There was no one like him. And there never will be again.
In eighth grade at Kingwood Middle School in a suburb of Houston, my choir conductor convinced me to perform "Remember the Time" for the Pop Show. I wanted to play my guitar and sing "Homeward Bound" with a friend of mine. But instead, I put on a black fedora, wore high-watered black slacks, bright white socks and choreographed a "Billie Jean"-esque dance postlude to "Remember the Time".
The assistant principal of the school called me to his office the next day, not because I grabbed my crotch in front of teachers, parents and other middle school kids, but because he wanted me to teach him "some of those dance moves."
In 2004, I was playing a gig at Clarks in Downtown Houston. I had attracted some new fans by playing unexpected cover versions of R&B classics by the likes of Bobby Brown, Bell Biv Devoe, Mariah Carey, etc. I had just arranged an acoustic blues version of "The Way You Make Me Feel". I began to play, and a guy who had played before me walked up with his tenor sax, asking if it'd be OK if he played the song with me.
The collaboration was so good, I decided to replicate it on my 2005 album Acoustic Boogaloo, featuring Mr. Kelly Dean on sax. Just guitar, vocals and saxophone. Such a simple, stripped down version of a dance classic, and my tribute to Michael Jackson.
A lot of people that I've known for years said they thought of me when they first heard the news. He had his troubles, eccentricities, and was probably one of the most misunderstood human beings on the planet, but my connection with MJ was one on a musical and emotional level.
I'm an aspiring rock star because of the following: Michael Jackson made me want to be an entertainer. Elvis made me want to be a singer. Paul Simon & The Beatles made me want to be a songwriter. But it all started with Michael.
His performance of "Billie Jean" at the Motown 25 Celebration will remain legendary, as it was the first time we saw the moonwalk and probably the moment in his career when he really stepped out of the shadow of his Motown years with the Jackson 5. But my favorite Michael Jackson moment was during the 1995 MTV Video Awards when he took the stage for a 15-minute performance of truly epic proportions.
Starting with a medley of hits that ended with one of the most soulful guitar solos that guest guitarist Slash has ever played, Michael then performed a rendition of "Dangerous" that features choreography that was pretty much a shiny new textbook for every student of dance. I'm not a dancer by any means, but I've heard from many that that performance was genius on so many levels. Even those that don't know much about dance can appreciate how great that choreography was.
He ended his MTV performance with "You Are Not Alone," singing to his then-wife Lisa Marie Presley. It was both touching and cheezy, but it was the climax to an unprecedented awards show performance that featured every aspect of Michael Jackson's talents. His singing. His dancing. And his ability to just floor an audience already expecting greatness and getting even more in return.
It's still surreal that he's gone. It's still numbing to think about. It's still shocking that it happened. But Michael's gone. His comeback tour will never be. His new album won't be finished (at least, not to the level of perfection he would have desired). And he'll never walk on the moon again.
But thank god that the greatest thing about him will remain in our lives for as long as we live. We can listen to his music whenever we please, and like the entertainer himself, it will never disappoint.
In the infamous interview with journalist Martin Bashir, Bashir was kind of poking fun at Michael's obsession with all things Peter Pan. "Why, Michael?" Bashir asked. "Do you want to be Peter Pan?"
"I am Peter Pan," Michael said. "I'm never gonna grow up. I'm gonna live forever."
He was right.
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