He was a huge fan of Michael Jackson. Many grown men would be ashamed to admit that, but I am not. Not only was he a brilliant performer and songwriter who defined the 1980s, who accounted for most of my adolescence, but there was something else that made me feel like I had a special understanding of who he was. That something else was his longing for a lost childhood and the battle within himself to be a man as he regained some of the lost innocence that he felt had been stolen from him.
While we certainly live very different lives and I don’t claim to be a superstar of Michael’s stature or possess the same talent that he had, one thing we both shared was a hugely emotionally damaging childhood. The mixture of hate, fear and love that Michael felt for his father is well documented. Joe Jackson was a severe disciplinarian who would beat up his children if they didn’t do what he wanted. Some have attributed this to propelling Michael and his brothers to the incredible success they achieved. But it also left enormous emotional damage.
I grew up with Tourettes syndrome. It was not diagnosed mainly because I had a moderate case and my parents completely denied that I had it. The teasing, ridicule, and sometimes physical abuse that I endured caused its own kind of harm and made me grow up quickly and realize how cruel others could be. As an adult, I found myself stunted for many years. In my twenties and even in my early thirties I yearned for the happy and fulfilling childhood that I felt I never had. He had no memories of great friendships or happy times in elementary or middle school. Instead, it pained me to think of all that I had endured.
Like Michael, I often enjoyed spending time with my little nephews and nephews and even worked as a camp counselor so that I could live vicariously through the youth I supervised. I always seemed to have the ability to sit next to a 7, 10 or 13 year old and make them feel like I was a friend and that I understood exactly what they were dealing with no matter what it was. I saw this as some kind of strange gift that was a “ray of light” from all the abuse I had suffered when I was younger.
Obviously, Michael also had this gift. It is one of the reasons I doubted that he was ever guilty of the child abuse charges that were brought against him. I think he was misunderstood and that spending time with young people was cathartic for him as well as for me. The difference between us is that I always recognized that while I might have a knack for empathizing with and connecting with young people, I knew I was an adult and would never cross certain lines. Perhaps due to Michael’s isolation, he wasn’t surrounded by enough people other than his servants and parasites to fully recognize that difference as I do.
Michael’s supposed concern to live forever, or at least as long as possible, has been discussed over the years. Of course, people have seen reports that he slept in an oxygen tent, wore masks when outside, and ate special foods to try and stay as young as possible. Michael took our society’s concern for youth to the extreme and became the last man-man, almost a caricature of the younger Michael Jackson we all knew and loved.
I think many of us have tried to do the same in our own way. Inevitably, we all age no matter how well we take care of our skin and body. It doesn’t matter what products we wear or how we dress. I look at someone like Madonna, another icon of the 80s who has chosen a different path. He fights like hell to stay fit and take care of himself, but he also accepts that he is aging and doing so with dignity, even though, like Michael Jackson, his early fame and talent were closely intertwined with his youth and beauty.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Michael’s passing and the lesson from his short life, it’s that life is precious and fleeting. As much as we would like to, we cannot relive our past. It is better to embrace our lives and look to the future. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives and no one can compete with father’s time. Not even Michael Jackson.
