The Liz Smith Column | 06/28/2009 11:00 pm
Liz Smith: Remembering My Michael Jackson
Our Gossip Girl remembers back to when she first got to know the King of Pop.
© Getty Images
"What do you read my Lord Hamlet?"
"Words, words, words."
So goes the exchange between Polonius and the Melancholy Dane.
***
And it’s words, words, words we are getting now in the wake of Michael Jackson’s shocking death at the age of 50. Laudatory and extravagant words, bitter words, accusatory and defensive words.
But what struck me instantly, as soon as I heard the news, was a terrible sense of déjà vu. Hadn’t we somehow been here before? Hadn’t we already seen Michael die so many times over the years – the death of his innocence, the death of his youthful beauty, the death of his reputation?
As with the passings of Marilyn and Elvis, there was shock, but no real surprise … these were icons fated to meet untimely and unhappy ends. And none more so than Michael, who chose to live on the absolute precipice for so many years, even, finally, falling into the abyss.
Was he a victim or a predator? Trapped by fame or enraptured by his cosseted existence? A selfless humanitarian or a ruthless self-promoter? A breathless Peter Pan or a gruff-voiced, hard-eyed business mogul? Or did he inhabit all these selves?
Unlike his great friend Elizabeth Taylor, who was similarly used as a cash-making golden goose by her family and her old MGM studio bosses, Michael couldn’t/wouldn’t break away from his childhood traumas. He seemed unable to begin to live out the life of a functioning adult, with adult passions and a basic center of reality. Taylor’s career was secondary to her life as a passionate woman, the mothering of her children. She managed to balance the inevitable narcissism of self-love with a more down-to-earth view of herself and her situation.
Michael, like Elvis – perhaps because of the emotionalism music creates in audiences – rushed headlong into unreality. He and Elvis built their own prisons and fashioned their odd lives to suit themselves. They took no good advice. They were surrounded by the worst kind of enablers. (Indeed, enablers may have killed Michael!)
Many more words are to come. Current headlines are just the beginning, everything you never wanted to know will be exposed, and the battle for Michael’s millions and the custody of his poor children will fill newspapers and tabloids for years.
So here’s how I want to remember Michael – not as the mega-star, not as Wacko Jacko, but as a lovely boy whom I got to know a bit during the filming of "The Wiz" when he was 16. He was shy – surprisingly so, for somebody who was already a showbiz veteran, and a star. His solo "Off The Wall" and "Thriller" albums were just around the corner. He was still the brilliant lead singer of The Jackson Five – a group that never would have gotten off the ground had it not been for Michael’s unique talents (much like the career of Michael’s friend/mentor/inspiration Miss Diana Ross and her Supremes).
There was nothing, and I mean nothing to suggest what was to come, in terms of eccentricity. He had yet to alter his face at all. He was a handsome young man on the set of "The Wiz." I wish I could tell you something dramatic, but in those days Michael wasn’t given to drama. The vibe he put out was one of eager, honest, hardworking drive. His soft-spoken ways were not quite so soft as they later became. He didn’t seem like a fragile Tennessee Williams heroine, ravaged by life and fearing the light. He was just a boy, on his way up. Charming.
At Elizabeth Taylor’s wedding to Larry Fortensky, I was at Neverland and sat by Michael during the wedding dinner. That night he explained to me his love for Elizabeth: "We were both child stars. We understand each other!" I was amused in that Michael was dressed more elaborately and had on more makeup than the bride. (And the groom, Fortensky, wasn’t even often at the table.)
"Words, words, words."
So goes the exchange between Polonius and the Melancholy Dane.
***
And it’s words, words, words we are getting now in the wake of Michael Jackson’s shocking death at the age of 50. Laudatory and extravagant words, bitter words, accusatory and defensive words.
But what struck me instantly, as soon as I heard the news, was a terrible sense of déjà vu. Hadn’t we somehow been here before? Hadn’t we already seen Michael die so many times over the years – the death of his innocence, the death of his youthful beauty, the death of his reputation?
As with the passings of Marilyn and Elvis, there was shock, but no real surprise … these were icons fated to meet untimely and unhappy ends. And none more so than Michael, who chose to live on the absolute precipice for so many years, even, finally, falling into the abyss.
Was he a victim or a predator? Trapped by fame or enraptured by his cosseted existence? A selfless humanitarian or a ruthless self-promoter? A breathless Peter Pan or a gruff-voiced, hard-eyed business mogul? Or did he inhabit all these selves?
Unlike his great friend Elizabeth Taylor, who was similarly used as a cash-making golden goose by her family and her old MGM studio bosses, Michael couldn’t/wouldn’t break away from his childhood traumas. He seemed unable to begin to live out the life of a functioning adult, with adult passions and a basic center of reality. Taylor’s career was secondary to her life as a passionate woman, the mothering of her children. She managed to balance the inevitable narcissism of self-love with a more down-to-earth view of herself and her situation.
Michael, like Elvis – perhaps because of the emotionalism music creates in audiences – rushed headlong into unreality. He and Elvis built their own prisons and fashioned their odd lives to suit themselves. They took no good advice. They were surrounded by the worst kind of enablers. (Indeed, enablers may have killed Michael!)
Many more words are to come. Current headlines are just the beginning, everything you never wanted to know will be exposed, and the battle for Michael’s millions and the custody of his poor children will fill newspapers and tabloids for years.
So here’s how I want to remember Michael – not as the mega-star, not as Wacko Jacko, but as a lovely boy whom I got to know a bit during the filming of "The Wiz" when he was 16. He was shy – surprisingly so, for somebody who was already a showbiz veteran, and a star. His solo "Off The Wall" and "Thriller" albums were just around the corner. He was still the brilliant lead singer of The Jackson Five – a group that never would have gotten off the ground had it not been for Michael’s unique talents (much like the career of Michael’s friend/mentor/inspiration Miss Diana Ross and her Supremes).
There was nothing, and I mean nothing to suggest what was to come, in terms of eccentricity. He had yet to alter his face at all. He was a handsome young man on the set of "The Wiz." I wish I could tell you something dramatic, but in those days Michael wasn’t given to drama. The vibe he put out was one of eager, honest, hardworking drive. His soft-spoken ways were not quite so soft as they later became. He didn’t seem like a fragile Tennessee Williams heroine, ravaged by life and fearing the light. He was just a boy, on his way up. Charming.
At Elizabeth Taylor’s wedding to Larry Fortensky, I was at Neverland and sat by Michael during the wedding dinner. That night he explained to me his love for Elizabeth: "We were both child stars. We understand each other!" I was amused in that Michael was dressed more elaborately and had on more makeup than the bride. (And the groom, Fortensky, wasn’t even often at the table.)
Read more about: Death, Diana Ross, Elizabeth Taylor, Elvis Presley, Entertainment, Larry Fortensky, Legends, Liz Smith, Marilyn Monroe, Michael Jackson, Music, News, Tennessee Williams, The Jackson Five, The Liz Smith Column, The Supremes
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65 Reader Comments (so far…) Sign In or Register to comment
Barbara, people who are not Michael Jackson fans are not supposed to understand how fans feel because They are not FANS!
You are probably right Christi….many can appreciate his talent and contributions to the music world and still keep the reality of his life in perspective.
Is the word "fan" short for "fanatic"?
Dani,
Michael is at Peace…….it’s always those left behind who don’t find peace.
They are grieving………or rejoicing
Either way He has found peace at last. He will find the love he has so desired on the ‘Other Side’
Excuses for my bad english, but I prefer to write in my language, sorry!
Michael Jackson é realmente mais do que o "Rei do Pop".
Michael Jackson é o grande exemplo de ser humano bondoso, generoso, e cheio de virtudes boas.
Ele foi muito mais do que um artista da música, pois ensinou outras coisas para as outras pessoas do mundo inteiro, especialmente aos líderes das nações, e ao povo de cada uma delas.
Se não fosse através das atitudes de pessoas como: Michael Jackson e Bob Geldof o Continente Africana ainda estaria assistindo seu povo e suas crianças morrendo de fome, mas que pela atitude de alguns genios da música tiveram seus sofrimentos amenizados.
Lógico que Michael e outros bons artistas não resolveram o problema da Africa e de tantos outros lugares do mundo, mas ele fez com que os governantes e outras pessoas se mobilizassem e se sensibilizassem com o drama dos seus semelhantes.
Falar sobre a genialidade de Michael Jackson na Música e na Dança é bobagem, pois seu talento e dedicação sempre foram notórios, assim como é toda a Arte e seus Autores.
Michael Jackson sempre foi um ser humano cheio de virtudes e um artista de primeira grandeza, e as pessoas de má indole sempre quiseram se aproveitar de suas fraquezas.
Nós os brasileiros duvidamos de que Michael seja culpado de todas as acusações que ele sofreu, pois Michael era um "menino bom" que nos encantou e tornou nossos dias melhores através da sua música.
Nós crescemos ouvindo e assistindo o talento de um ídolo desde os seus 5 anos de idade e sua obra não foi em vão pois acalanta os corações e vidas sofridas.
Hoje os astros nascem num dia e morrem no dia seguinte e não podemos nos referir à Michael Jackson como sendo um artista descartável, porque sua carreira foi longa e reta.
Michael Jackson dedicou meio século de sua vida ao que ele mesmo sempre amou e com sucesso A MÚSICA.
Nós brasileiros temos pena daquelas pessoas que um dia o acusaram, e tentaram manchar o nome dele, e também ganharam dinheiro de maneira sórdida e reprovável em cima das fraquezas de Michael Jackson.
E um dia elas terão que prestar contas sobre isto!
Dinheiro sujo não compra felicidade, e essas pessoas irão se arrepender de seus atos.
Nós brasileiros esperamos que um dia todas elas tenham dignidade e peçam perdão publicamente, pois Michael Jackson foi um homem sofrido e atormentado por sua própria imagem.
A maior virtude de Michael Jackson mesmo vivendo com todos os seus fantasmas e sofrimento, era jamais transferir isto ao seu público….muito pelo contrário com ele só tivémos tempos de alegria, fé e esperança em dias melhores.
De ícone à lenda.
De Michael Jackson só temos ótimas lembranças em nossos corações e mentes.
MICHAEL JACKSON LIVES ON….
Wilson Alexandre
M W,
That’s the problem, Someone of that Fame never know who their True friends are. It’s really doubtful he had any TRUE friends…………mostly people who wanted his Magic to rub off on them.
I’ve often thought over the years………
If some ordinary person could befriend him, keep him in touch with the real World he might have found happiness.
He didn’t, but the World benefited from his genius his talent and his willingness to share it all with the World.
Anyone who ever saw him perform or listened to his music were sprinkled with his Magic Dust……….Millions upon Millions of people were affected in a good and Magic way because he lived among us.
Be at peace Michael Your Magic will be floating in the air for eons of time.
Oh, Liz Smith, you’ve stopped the frenzie, the heightened emotional contagion, and provided a personal, human experience with the enigmatic Michael, and so beautifully written. I will continue to respect his fantastic dancing and his ability to energize a gym full of peers and stadiums around the world, filled with the diversity of fans captivated by his singular talent.
My experiences with celebrity are basically from your sharing your real contact and knowlege of these individuals. But I do have a personal Michale Jackson story. The years 1969 and 1970 I lived in Gary, Indiana, right up the street from the Jackson family. I never saw him or any of his family members, but I taught in a school across the street from a housing project. These were my students, the majority of whom had never been out of Gary, a rough steel town offering limited opportunies other than the mills. But those kids knew who Michael was, and they were so proud, Jackson provided a path to greater opportunities. Maybe one day they could discover that a’ Man’s reach should exceed his grasp.’ I did point out that in reality they might consider getting through second grade before they packed their bags.
And my landlady had been a cook in Michael’s school, and she was so proud, as if she had ‘discovered’ the future King of Pop. Oh, gee, I think we all felt we’d been present at the creation of Michael Jackson. The tears, no doubt flow in Gary.
Peace and grace
Hello everyone, I am from the UK, and just wanted to add my few pennies worth to the conversation. I too was very sad when I heard that Michael Jackson had suddenly passed away. We heard the news that he was taken ill around 10pm GMT. I stayed up all night, watching all the available news channels - BBC, CNN, Sky News, mostly shouting at the TV for their continued harassment of the King of Pop. At one point I even screamed, “How on earth can they say he is dead? They want to kill off the poor man – is there no level they will not stoop? How wicked and cruel can these so called journalists be? I hope he sues them all!” So you can only imagine how I felt when the news was finally confirmed.
The next day (Friday) still in shock and not having had any sleep the night before, I decided to go for a ‘walkabout’, so I could compute in my own mind the enormity of the tragedy. It was as if I needed to escape from a surreal world, which no longer included Michael, to run away from the wall-to-wall sadness, which suddenly descended from nowhere.
I ended up strangely enough, of all places at a famous market (Portobello Road Market, in North West London), and am glad to report that every single stall and shop along this extremely long road, were all blasting out Michael’s music in tribute. Just think folks, on a busy road, in a different country, so far away from L.A., was Michael’s voice echoing, as if it was surrounding me like a warm, comforting blanket. “Billie Jean”, mixed with “Smooth Criminal”, backed by “Black or White”, followed by “Blood on the Dancefloor”, along side “Thriller”. His entire discography filling the London air, sounding like a wonderful, glorious symphony. My spirits were lifted, knowing that even though Michael is gone, he will always be with us because he left his beautiful gift of music, words and dance. What a truly wonderful human being.
There are those of course who feel the need to bring up the negatives. Despite the fact he was found not guilty in a court of law, I suppose mud sticks. Yes he may have been ‘different’ in some ways, but if we had his childhood, his background, or lived in his environment, would any of us faired any differently? We often attack what we do not understand, or we what fear. It appears to me, that as many family members, friends and dedicated fans Michael had, he also had as many people who feared his power, his hold, his gifts, his talents. How can anyone dance that way, sing so perfectly? He can’t be normal.
So what if he had plastic surgery, half of tinsel town has had some work! Joan Rivers, Robert Redford, Cher, and those are just names off the top of my head, I am sure you can think of far more. My point is ‘so what and who cares’, it’s their face, body and money! So what if Michael called his former home ‘Neverland’, he could have called it ‘Santa’s Christmas Grotto’, for all I care, it still would not matter in the great scheme of things. Of course Michael was different. Who else do you know, who can dance the way he does, sing the way he does. That was what was special about Michael, the fact that he was different. Should this not be celebrated? Why spend precious energy trying to bring down Michael, when you can spend less energy dancing to his music?
I choose to embrace his gifts and celebrate the essence that was and is Michael Jackson. The haters who attack Michael for no just cause should not be condemned, it is just that they probably hate themselves and cope by transferring their pain to Michael. Some of this stems from pure racism – why should a Black /African American man have all this power? Some stems from just cold hard jealousy, some of it to gain a by-line for story. The media loves to boost the famous, only so that they can take them down again – 2 stories for the price of 1 (or should that say ‘at the price of 1’?). I have seen it happen to so many celebrities – perhaps the most recent and famous the late Diana, Princess of Wales.
I do hope as a fitting legacy, we all join together and try to seek a more peaceful world, where the only fights are dance offs. I know I am still very upset at his passing, but it is so nice to know that so many people decided to celebrate his life and to thank him for his gifts rather than try to attack with cheap shots, someone who can no longer defend himself.
We will never see the like of MJ again. Normally when a famous person dies, I maybe say a little prayer if I liked them and then just carry on with whatever task I was doing. But this, this is very different. I suppose like many people I feel there was a connection via Michael’s music. He is the soundtrack of my childhood, but now not of my adulthood. I am angry that he never got the chance to enjoy his comeback, and put his critics in their place. I am slightly relieved he is at peace now and nobody can ever hurt him again. But I am mostly so grateful and feel so blessed and lucky that I was able to hear his music and lyrics and watch his cool and extraordinary dance moves. The negative stories will come, but my response? Turn up the volume to full blast, just like Macaulay Culkin did in the ‘Black or White’ video and just like the market stallholders on Portobello Road J. Us Londoners know how to show our appreciation for a great artist and wonderful humanitarian. I hope that knowing this will bring some comfort to fans who are still in shock.
Thank you Mr Jackson for everything you have done, I will never forget you.
And neither will my neighbours as I crank up the volume one more time! All together now, ‘Billie Jean is not my lover…’
Thanks for reading.