The Real Michael Jackson Memorial: His Music
It was quite a spectacle, wasn't it? Tuesday's
Michael Jackson memorial was — to borrow a phrase from a million lazy headline writers — "Fit for a King," full of tears and testimonials and triple-octave tributes, a once-in-a-generation event that was watched by the entire world (or something like one-sixth of it, anyway). For more than two hours, if there was any other event happening on the planet, you didn't know about it — which is about as fitting of a farewell you can give to the man who taught the world how to moonwalk. You will remember where you were when it happened, just like you'll remember where you where when you heard the news that
Michael Jackson had died.
But no matter how great the Jackson memorial service was, it was still a memorial service, so regardless of its size or cost or spectacle, and — as with any production on that scale — there were less-than-great moments too. It ran very long (and at the end, during the whole "We Are the World" performance, simply ran off the tracks). Usher made some folks uncomfortable by serenading the casket, and, well, let's just say Representative Sheila Jackson Lee could've used a shot clock. And when Reverend Al Sharpton and Martin Luther King III expounded about
Michael Jackson the Pariah and
Jackson the Icon, they didn't really give us a sense of
Jackson the man.
To that end, it's amazing that for all the spectacle and melisma that captivated the Staples Center audience, the most memorable moments came when people who knew
Michael Jackson best talked about his humanity: Berry Gordy's story of
Michael Jackson playing catcher on the Jackson 5 baseball team; Magic
Jackson's joke about Jackson eating a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken; Brooke Shields' moving speech; Jermaine
Jackson's performance of his brother's favorite song, "Smile" and, of course,
Jackson's daughter Paris' final farewell. These were the bits that reminded us that, for all the stuff we've read about
Michael Jackson, for all the records he's sold and all the surgeries he subjected himself to, he was, at the end of the day, a friend, a brother and a father. He was a human being.
In the studio,
Jackson was able to hide from the tabloids and lawyers and just make music. There's laughter and tears and swagger to the art he created. There's a humanity hiding just beneath the surface. It was him — unguarded and unfiltered, the way only his closest friends got to see him.
So if today, you're getting that same empty feeling, try going back and really listening to
Michael Jackson's best stuff. Throw on Off the Wall and marvel at the extended high note Jackson hits toward the end of "Rock With You." Listen to Thriller and try not to shift a bit in your chair during the legendary run in the middle that starts with the title track, rolls right into "Beat It" and wraps with "Billie Jean" (and, really, keeps going with "Human Nature" and "P.Y.T." too). Dig into the second side of Bad, basically everything after his duet with Stevie Wonder, and realize just how underappreciated
Jackson was as a songwriter.
Have your own memorial service through your iPod or car stereo. Eulogize his humanity accordingly. We all knew
Michael Jackson, even if we really didn't.