As a child growing up in the 80's, Michael Jackson had a huge impact on my generation. To start with, his music was just awesome. And he was so cute. Seriously. Remember the picture of Michael in the fold-out section of the "Thriller" album wearing the white suit holding the little tiger cub? I had at least one Michael Jackson picture on my bedroom wall.
But his videos. That's where he got me.
I remember the puffy white jacket with the dragon on the back from "Beat It." When the guys decided they'd be better off dancing than stabbing each other. I remember the light-up sidewalk of "Billie Jean." The still shots of him dancing, flipping his collar up. But the best video of all, by far, was "Thriller." To make essentially a short movie using one song...that was groundbreaking! I remember the zombie coming up the manhole, the amazingly choreographed dance of the dead, and the creepy contacts at the end.
When I was a kid, we didn't have instant-access u-tube. So when MTV advertised days in advance when "Thriller" was going to be aired, or better yet, when "The Making of Thriller" was going to be aired, I was right there, watching hungrily.
For some strange coincidental reason, Binta and I had been talking about Michael Jackson earlier this week. I was telling her how much I liked him when I was a little girl, and how he had such unique trademarks...the white glove...the sparkly jackets...the aviator sunglasses...and of course, the moonwalk.
Nowhere was this displayed better than his 1983 performance at the 25th Anniversary of Motown.
Binta watched the following video with wide eyes, absorbing all of his jerky-yet-somehow-amazingly-fluid dance moves. Towards the end, she asked if he had moonwalked yet.
"Oh. You'll know when he moonwalks."
"But does he really walk backwards?" (she acts it out on the desk with her fingertips)
"Just keep watching. You will know when he moonwalks."
And then he does it. And I feel like I'm 9 again, watching his gravity-defying performance. He is a singer. A dancer. The King of Pop. A magician. I quickly look over at Binta, as her jaw drops and her eyes widen even more at what he has just done.
Thank you for the magical moments in my childhood, Michael. You will be missed.