Memories of a five year old zombie wanna be....

I must talk about Michael Jackson a bit. I almost feel like I would be remiss to ignore his passing in my blog/journal. I was not what you'd call a huge fan, but he was of course a very large part of my childhood music world.

We had lots of records. Loads and loads in these wood crate things, but the special ones, the ones we listened to often lived on a shelf on the ginormous entertainment center my parents owned. I can distinctly remember the Thriller album cover being on top of the record stack for a large portion of my time at the apartment on Hacienda Avenue. It was always there, right along with my Dumbo record and eventually my Madonna record. I thought my mom must have a crush on him because he was laying on his side trying to look all sexy (or what a six year old perceives as trying to be sexy). Though the music taste varied greatly in my house - Grateful Dead to Journey to Rolling Stones to Patsy Cline to Elvis - there was always a place for Thriller.

I can also remember trying very hard to learn each and every move to the Thriller dance, just like every kid my age. I've never been a terribly coordinated dancer (ask anyone who ever saw me try out for a cheerleading squad, thank goodness I could tumble and stunt!) so I probably looked more like an actual zombie than a cool dancer dressed up like a zombie. A five year old zombie. But the point is I tried, because it was so freaking cool. He was cool. The video was cool. The song was awesome! I wanted to be his date and wear the cute poodle skirt. In fact now that I think about it, I think I can rightfully blame Michael Jackson for my obsession with said article of clothing that has carried with me to present day. I am always looking for a 50's-ish skirt!I heard that song six times yesterday and I never got tired of it. I think I could listen to it as many times today and still get a kick out of it. And still want to wear the skirt, but not the spandex outfit later in the video...

I actually found myself flipping stations in search of more Michael Jackson music on my way home last night. I couldn't get enough and every song gave me goosebumps. I didn't realize it was that important to me until I heard "We Are the World" and I teared up.

I'm not here to judge the man, his actions or what his life eventually became. That's God's job and I suspect they are talking it over right now. What I can do is remember the joy and fun his music brought to my childhood and so many others. I'd like to remember him as the shy speaking, moonwalking, bleeding heart that he was before he got all weird.

I may even try to learn the Thriller dance again so I can participate in the Thrill The World mass dance this coming October. You know you want to do it too! We can all dance like zombies together! Check for your local time and spot here:

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