I am not ashamed to admit that I have shed a tear or two or five since learning of Michael Jackson’s passing. I was a HUGE fan of his albumn, “Off the Wall.” I can remember blasting that particular cassette as I drove around town in my orange VW Beetle. I kept right on listening and buying his music well into the 80’s. On April 25, 1988, I was fortunate to witness his talent first-hand at a concert in Dallas, Texas. As my friend, Shawn, and I sat in our seats, I couldn’t help but notice the faces in the crowd. There were people of every race and color, ranging in age from children to grandmas. I had never before (and probably never since) seen such a diverse crowd at a rock/pop event.

On the day after his death, a local radio station played non-stop Michael Jackson music. We had three different radios at work all tuned to this one location on the dial. We sang and reminisced our way through the day, and managed to get some work done, too.

I do not actually believe in placing celebrities/entertainers on any kind of pedestal. I choose to think that this type of “worship” should be reserved for the heroes searching for a cure for diseases such as AIDS, cancer or diabetes. Or, just everyday folks who devote their lives to charity work. However, I just felt like writing about Mr. Jackson in an effort to honor his amazing talent and his gentle, giving, often misunderstood soul.