Paying respects to an icon

RIP

If you’ve had Michael Jackson overload the last few days, skip to the next post and read about professional wrestling. If not, read on.

I grew up after the peak of Michael Jackson’s popularity, but he still was very relevant in pop music. I saw the videos. I heard some of the music. I actually didn’t become a full-fledged fan until my junior year of high school, when I watched his 30th anniversary special and was floored. Dude still had it.

A few months later, I stopped at the now-defunct Fred Meyer on Grand in Vancouver because I was too tired to drive back to La Center just yet. I ventured into the CDs, where I picked up a couple gems the week before — Barry White’s greatest hits and the Beastie Boys’ License to Ill. I saw a special-edition, remastered release of Thriller, bought it, went home and fired up the stereo. That album, top to bottom, is quite possibly the best pop album ever.

Next payday, I bought the remastered edition of Off the Wall. Next one, I bought Bad. On a trip to Idaho, I picked up Dangerous used. Soon after, Invincible. The summer of 2002, as well as pretty much my entire senior year, basically had a Michael Jackson soundtrack. Some of my best memories with My Buddy Dan (proper noun form because this is how he’s always referred in the workplace) were going bowling, to the movies or whatever, having to stop for gas and cranking some Michael song full-blast while Dan pumped gas and Vancouverites looked at us funny.

With basically every radio station in America doing a Michael Jackson tribute, I listened to a few songs I hadn’t heard since then, as well as some of his work with his brothers. I took it for granted because the beats and lyrics were always so catchy, but dude had an amazing voice. He had so much vocal control that he could literally do anything, make any sound he wanted.

Also, obviously, there were plenty of music videos and performances on because…well…he’s been in a couple. I watched the Motown 25 celebration almost immediately after he died and watched him do the Moonwalk for the first time. He did it twice, for only like three or four steps at a time, but people went crazy. I also remember how captivating the rest of the physical performance was. No matter the song (it was easy in this case because it was Billie Jean), he could draw you in — whether it was with his facial expressions, mannerisms or incredible dance moves.

I was shocked when I found out he died, and it’s still hard to imagine he’s gone. Michael Jackson truly was our Elvis and, though he was out of the spotlight for a while, I always hoped for a new album or one jaw-dropping comeback performance.

RIP, King of Pop. We’ll miss you.