Who's Bad?

Okay, I've got to tell you that I was one of those 12 year-old girls who had posters of Michael Jackson plastered to my floral-wall-papered bedroom walls. I was one of those 12 year old girls who got up at 7 am on Saturday to watch the Jackson 5 cartoon. I purchased magazines just to cut out the pictures of him and file them neatly in a Pee-Che. I not only owned Thriller, but pretty much every album prior to that. My classmates and I made homemade buttons that read, "I love Michael Jackson" (as a side note, my southern-bred grandpa hated those pins).

And then, sadly Michael Jackson became weird and it became too embarrassing to admit that I loved him. That is, until today.

So, I was shocked at my kids' camp today to run into a mom who was in mourning over Michael Jackson. She fully admitted that she was having a really hard time with the news of his passing. At that moment I eyeballed her and realized we were about the same age. Ah, suddenly understanding came, as did a lot of memories. Memories of entering contests to win concert tickets. Memories of hovering over MTV awaiting Thriller. Memories of Michelle Y. french kissing my Michael Jackson Poster (it never was the same after her lipgloss-yuck).

Tonight I turned on the television and evidently the entire nation is mourning his loss. As I flipped through episode after episode of press-related eulogies, I became irritated. I mean, really, what would these same journalists have said two days ago about Michael Jackson. What about the celebrities being interviewed? I didn't hear any of them singing his praises as of late.

Amidst my irritation, a thought came to me. All of Michael Jackson's quirks and pitfalls are being overlooked, at least for today. Instead he is being celebrated for his strengths, his talents and the good he brought into the world.

This realization instead of bothering me, gave me hope. Maybe that's a tender mercy of the Lord. In the end, perhaps the goodness He has given each us will be what is remembered most. Perhaps that is our inheritance.

So, farewell, Mr Jackson. You made me a very happy 12 year-old. I love the message of your music, your meticulous dancing, your videos and the poster of you in the yellow sweater-vest. ;0) Thank you.