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Count me among the MJ fans, feeling sad and reminiscent today.
At my summer camp we were allowed to pick our troop name to match a theme. One year the theme was music, and I was proud to be in the "Michael Jackson troop". We only won after a raffle, since everyone wanted that to be their name.
I'm not sure which year, but at that same camp we each got a white glove to glue sequins to for a craft project. I remember feeling let down when mine didn't look anything like Michael's.
One time a talented fan of my father's auto repairs drew him a charcoal sketch of MJ in his "Sgt. Pepper" jacket as a thank you. My dad gave it to me, and I dutifully colored it in with crayons and posted it above my bed until it was brown and crispy with age.
My brother and I would regularly play the song "Beat it" and renact the fight using a dishtowel to tie our hands together. Thriller and Bad had regular rotation. I even loved Dangerous, one of the last albums I bought on cassette.
I credit MJ's music with my love of dance music in general. Some of you know how much I love to dance!
There's so much more to say, but perhaps I should stop there.
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