Well, if I ever thought I'd do a Michael Jackson post, I guess this is the time to do it. I guess not everyone has a MJ story, but I just happen to, and I have always had kind thoughts for him, even though he had developed such an unusual, if not bad, lifestyle. I am not going there. I can't. I never could. I'm not one who ever bashed him. In fact, despite the media, my family, and some of my friends, I have always felt we didn't know the real story. I don't think it's ours to know. Compassion. Since I have a little something to speak about Michael, I might as well get to it. I. SAW. HIM. LIVE!!!! yeah... Me. I was a part of the Victory Tour in 1984 that found the King of Pop in Kansas City Arrowhead Stadium. That day. Wow..
It all began when a group of about 10-15 (I cannot remember for sure) friends decided to get tickets. I remember telling a little whopper to my mom about the gosh-awful price of the tickets. I think they were maybe 50 bucks apiece back when nobody I ever went to see was that high. I think I said maybe 25... (is that a little lie or what? haha..) Whatever I said, she thought was too high. My mom is not now and never has been a Michael Jackson fan. I think she was relieved when she was validated by the crotch grabbing and the weirdness. Anyway, we set out bright and early from Bevier, MO, in three cars. The three cars made it approximately 100 miles of the 200 mile trip. One pooped out at Cameron Junction. Our little entourage waited for the diagnosis.. Nope, they couldn't fix it "today." So all however many of us piled into TWO cars.. (luckily they were bigger back then.)
The rest of the day was kind of a blur until we hit Arrowhead and the screaming fans. I remember sitting very high up and speculating how they'd bring Michael in. Suddenly we heard a helicopter, and it was landing in the mezanine directly behind our seats. My friend and I swooped out and we were as close as we could be to the helipad. A cute little girl dressed in sparkles and pigtails stood on the balcony bannister, held tightly by her Daddy... We were ecstatic because we thought Michael would be getting out of that helicopter any second. She turned to her Daddy and screamed, "Oh, Daddy, let me go! I want to fall from this bannister and land right at Michael's feet. He'd HAVE to notice me then!!!" This, from about a five-year-old. Her Dad gruffly said in total astonishment: "YOU SHUT UP now! That's crazy talking!" hahahaha... Well in about ten minutes it happened------ they wheeled out some poor individual from the stadium who'd had too much excitement and experienced a heart attack. He was loaded on the copter, and by the time we came in to take our seats, Michael was onstage! haha...
He pranced; he danced; he moonwalked; and he waved his glove. The fireworks exploded; the whole stadium exploded with roars to every song. We heard Billie Jean, Thriller, ==== you name it... He was rightly the king that night.
What a night... What a trip. What a legend. Thanks, Michael, for the best dancing I think I ever saw and for some talent-over the top music... I hope your little wounded soul has found sweet peace.