Random Thoughts About Michael Jackson

I have to say I grew up in Gary so I was a witness to seeing the Jackson Five evolve from talent show sensations to playing local clubs to being signed by Motown. On the every day side the house where they lived happened to be situated directly behind a little league baseball field where I and the older Jackson brothers played. I remember many a foul ball landing in the Jackson’s yard. Seeing the van they used to transport themselves and their equipment to gigs. Or passing by seeing little kids like Janet running about in baby clothes.
I keep thinking that Michael’s life was the ultimate contradiction. What made him highly popular and successful also kept him from finding a delicate balance between his private and public life. It was if his celebrity burned so white hot he became like an alien from another planet. He could be admired to the point of frenzy, but not really completely understood by his fans. He could look for a place to fit in, but would find it difficult to find someone that could completely relate to his unique position in the world.
At the time Michael married Lisa Marie Pressley I wondered why he picked her out of all the women in the world. But on the other hand, with Michael reputed to be an astute student of show business, he knew Elvis was the one rock and roll era entertainer that mirrored his own career the most.
The parallels between Elvis and Michael are obvious. The rare triple threat of top notch vocals, unique dancing and movement, combined with irresistable charisma. In their own ways both were ground breaking. Elvis drove white teenagers crazy in the sexually repressed 1950s. He also scared the crap out of parents, drew the ire of religious conservatives, and as a by product, probably caused white kids to gravitate more to black entertainers with styles that Elvis emulated. With the sheer force of his talent Michael became a world wide sensation. He also broke down barriers like the practice of black acts having to break out big on the R&B charts before ever getting airplay on top 40 stations. Not to mention making MTV revamp their early practice of not broadcasting videos by black artists.
The classic TV appearance by Elvis was his stint on the Ed Sullivan in which they blocked out the bottom half of his body because his movements were considered too sexually suggestive. Instead of protecting their children, the action probably made them even more attracted to Elvis.
Michael solidified his position as the undisputed man of the times with his dazzling performance of Billy Jean on the Motown 25th television special. Anybody would be hard pressed to find a more electrifying and right on point piece of video of the same length on any subject, let alone a musical performance.
I’m hardly an expert, and could be off base, but I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had Michael had under gone a type of theraphy that would have helped him separate his performing self from his real life existence. If he could have been his on Clark Kent and put his Superman suit in a closet to be pulled out at appropriate times. I suppose we’ll never know.
I’m sure that, like Elvis, Michael’s music and video contributions will live on and prosper, and will be embraced by a new crop of fans who didn’t get the chance to see him perform in person or on a live broadcast. Such are the things legends are made of.

A Plea For a Beach Dress Code

Well folks, it’s close to summer time, and the living may be easy. It’s that time of year, especially in places where they have traditionally cool, or cold winters, when many people will be flocking to the beach.
This is my area of grave concern. Most people feel free to dress in the manner that is comfortable to them. On the surface nothing is wrong with this. But in reality, it can be a harry situation for the eyes to see. This is why I think a beach dress code is badly needed. The code doesn’t have to be formal or enforceable by law, it would just be something people would adhere to naturally.
In a business office setting women are not going to show up in a halter and a micro mini dress. Men don’t come to work wearing a suit coat and no shirt. We need the same kind of responsible behavior when it comes to visiting the beach.
Now I have nothing against plus sized women enjoying the beach. But let’s face it, is any kind of two piece bathing suit a great look for you? I think not.
Full figure men. Do you really need to be shirtless at the beach, especially if you have man boobs so large you can make Pamela Anderson envious? My answer would be no.
I know some places have ordinances against women wearing thong or G-string bottoms. Apparently parents are concerned about their children seeing female butts. But let’s face it, we’re in the age of the internet, cable TV, texting, and Girls Gone Wild. If kids really want to see bare buns, they’ll find someplace to see them. What might be more disturbing to kids is to see a well-boobed man with a pregnant belly. Can you imagine a kid saying:
"Mama, that man has breasts like you. Is he pregnant? I thought only women can have babies."
Full figure types are hardly the only offenders. For all you large boobed women that wear bikini tops a couple sizes too small, don’t be surprised when all male eyes are upon you in anticipation of a major wardrobe malfunction.
I can’t leave out the guys. Especially the roided up, oiled up, hunks with their so-called perfect bodies. Do we need to see you in your too tight speedos showing off your ballet dancer style packages? I don’t think so.
My fellow Americans, we must have a beach dress code! Please think about it.

The Fame and Shame Game

The other night after I, for some unknown reason, had just watched my fourth celebrity and entertainment half hour magazine show, it dawned on me that I was watching way too many celebrity and entertainment shows. But the fact that so many shows exist underscores our ever growing obsession with celebrity and fame. Either we hunger for news about this or that celebrity, or we long to become one ourselves. So it's no surprise that an ever growing publication and broadcast industry has exploded centering around the fame game. But the funny thing is no matter how horny, crazed, alcohol and drug addicted, marrying and divorcing celebrities are, they don't seem to do this at a fast enough rate to fill all those publication pages or broadcast time. One solution has been the time-honored practice of fabricating stories based on half truths, or no truth at all. The other is the Orwellian practice of rumor is truth, and truth is rumor, meaning a news source can report an item as rumor, then others will pick it up and report it until those involved in the rumor have to respond as if the rumor was based in fact.
Just at the right moment the reality TV craze came along just in time to feed the celebrity monster. Now you don't have to accomplish anything in areas like the arts or sports over a period of time. You just have to participate in one of these shows that get decent ratings.
And what do you have to do to qualify? Attempt to sing. Attempt being the key word. If you can actually sing you may launch a professional singing career. If you suck to high heaven, you get a one shot dose of national humiliation. The fame game can be cruel. But hey, fame is fame.
Other roads to fame are right there for you if you're willing to grovel for the attention of some semi-desirable bachelor or bachelorette along with a dozen or so other potential permanent suitors. Or you can journey to some godforsaken island where you will be starved to death, eaten alive by exotic insects, and lied to, backstabbed, and double-crossed by just about every other human being present. All for the chance to win a million dollars. And if you want to extent your fifteen minutes of fame you can do like one winner and not pay taxes and hope the IRS won't notice. Of course that won't work, and the press will be right there to cover your trial and conviction for tax evasion. Another venue for the fame-shame game is the TV talk show. When they run out of real celebrities guests, reality stars will have to do. Check out this talk show exchange: "We're back. I'm Blink Nesbie. And my next guest is London Bridges, heir to the Super Ribbed condom empire, and reality TV star. London, it's great to have you hear." "Yeah, like, it's really cool being here with you. You're kinda cute." "Well thank you. You're a lovely young lady. Now let's talk about your career. It began with your appearance on the reality show Let's Eat Some Insects. What was it like eating so many insects?' "Well, you know, it was kind of cool once you got used to it." "What did they taste like?" "Chicken mostly. Some like sunflower seeds." "Of course," smiled the host. "Before the reality show, you had those sex tapes leak out." "Yeah. That was unfortunate. People say they were dirty sex tapes, but they really weren't." "There was the one where your naked butt was spanked by a guy using raw spaghetti sticks." "Oh yeah. Let me explain that. The guy was a chef at a restaurant my family owns. He had been in a down mood. It was a therapy thing." "But what about the tape of the guy licking chocolate syrup off your nude body?" "I was helping a friend get over an eating disorder." "Really." "Yeah. For sure. I'm not a freaky hoocie. I'm really not."