Good-bye, Michael
by
Robert A. Simpkins
Global Crosswinds,L.L.C.
Gone Too Soon:
This blog is being written the day after the legendary Michael Jackson died. I don’t know exactly how to express my feelings, but as a friend of mine said, “It sucks”. I can’t think of any better way to put it. I’m usually writing about business, politics, communications or something similar, but with Michael’s passing, I felt the inner need to write something.
As a member of the generation slightly older than Michael, I had, as so many people had around the world, mixed feelings about him. Trying to reconcile the various Michael Jacksons has always made me feel uneasy. There seemed to be three disparate and unreadable variations of him, but, in my simple evaluative mind, I desperately wanted just one. That would never happen, though, and he passed on leaving us with, not one, but three voids.
Thriller:
As an unbelievably ingenious writer, producer, arranger, stage performer and entertainer, Michael exceeded anyone who had come before and may hold that eminent status for a long, long time. How could anyone deny his creative brilliance? It was definitely a gift from the gods, and one he repaid every time he recorded a song or took to the stage. There were imitators, but in truth, no one ever came close to changing the expression of music the way he did. On his worse days, Michael was still better than everyone else.
Off The Wall:
As a public figure, bridging the entertainer with the private man, reality became a little more clouded. Whether one believes the charges against him or not, Michael always seemed to have difficulty making choices that were not apart of his musical life. My personal feeling is that he was only at fault for blurring childhood fantasies with acceptable societal expectations; something all of us experienced at an early age. The problem was that Michael was a full grown man, as well as an overly-scrutinized celebrity, and some of his decisions were too child-like. I’m sure, in his mind, he was just acting innocently, and the truth is that I really have no interest in the opinions of those who joyously wallow in his troubles. No matter how I felt previously, I am now so saddened that I just want to put behind his judgmental lapses. Hopefully, the world will too. They somehow seem inconsequential when comparing them to the loss his death brought to the world of music and visual imagery.
Man in the Mirror:
When one looks at the private figure, I can only think about Michael from the comments of those who knew him best. They tell of a man-child who was very different than the performer. As has been played out so many times, he never had the opportunity to be a child and, therefore, never knew how to be Michael Jackson, the man. He seemed to have a great deal of difficulty even understanding how to envision his own identity. The fantasy worlds, the costumes, the plastic surgeries, and the veils just seemed to be an attempt to hide the fact that he didn’t know who he really was or wanted to be. I have a feeling that every time he looked in a mirror, he saw an uninvited stranger.
Remember the Time:
As the media explores every finite aspect of his life, I have come to a decision about how I will always think of him. Michael Jackson does not deserve to be compared to anyone else. He unrelentingly created and sustained his own category of lasting greatness. Whether it was his music or his charities, he achieved a plateau that few will every reach. When he performed, each of us was taken to a far-away world on which he, and only he, lived.
Thank you, Michael. You lived and shared an amazingly expressive life and we are all the better for it. You will be missed. May you now, finally, rest in peace.