As I sit here in my apartment in New York, window open, people walking silently en masse to the subway, the Jackson Five's "ABC" blasts from a car sitting at a red traffic light. I want to lean out the window and tell the driver to turn it up.
Like many of us, I discovered music starting with Michael Jackson. My childhood was magical with his sound, his moves, his childlike energy. Every time I went to a tap class, I tried to imitate the toe stand or moonwalk along with the other girls who were allowed to watch MTV. We would chat about the "Thriller" video--which I never admitted terrified me--and I would come home everyday hoping it would be on. I must have watched it a thousand times, hands over eyes during the zombie close-ups, mouthing along word for word with Vincent Price.
The one song that touched me the most, though, was "Ben." To this day it makes me weep. I dreamed of marrying a guy named Ben someday just so I could walk down the aisle to that song. Instead, I sang it endlessly to my first love, my cat, while dancing around the room with her in my arms. Our awkward waltz always ended with me in tears clutching onto her fur desperately, my nose nuzzled in a purring neck. I understood the sound of that voice because it was the same as my own--a child's heart expressing unconditional love.
Despite the bizarre direction his life took, my heart always went out to Michael Jackson. As an entertainer, he always gave us what we wanted, and he still delivers. I DJ'd a rooftop party in Chelsea a few weeks ago. After the big hits had already exhausted everyone on the dance floor, my friend Chad approached.
"You need to play 'Man in the Mirror.'"
"I don't have it, and you can't really dance to it."
"Trust me, you need to play it. Make it the last song."
With that, he handed over an iPod with the song (it's funny just thinking about being able to hold Michael Jackson's entire catalog of music in the palm of your hand). We played it, and I swear the night shifted, lit up. The wind danced through the eaves, and every last person gathered in the middle of this expansive roof to listen ("I'm gonna make a change for once in my life...") and to dance. It was beautiful.
That's Michael. Always keeping us on our toes, making us sing along with our hearts.
