***FYI: Ted has decided to bless us, AT LEAST, once a week with something we can chew on. Should he so desire to bless us more often...I shall, of course, post it as we love his writing so. :)
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I once wrote about a cousin that was a "reckless azz ninja." That is, he was one of those dudes who did not resist the allure of the fasts - fast money, fast women, and fast cars. Despite his upbringing, he ended up in and out of jail, running the streets, and posturing as if he was auditioning for a hip hop music video. I remember writing how pissed off I was at him, and dudes like him, when my sister called one day to ask if I'd heard that he'd been released from jail. I immediately though, "That punk will be back in jail by the weekend." I was wrong. He was shot and killed the day after his release. That was the real reason my sister called... to tell me he'd been killed outside a club by some dude named Frogman.
On Thursday afternoon, Michael Jackson died. This past weekend has been chock full of video tributes and MJ tributes. I logged into Facebook on Friday and it seemed like everybody and their grandma talked about how they were jamming to MJ in tribute to his life. In tribute, they said. In remembrance, they said. Out of respect, they said. People everywhere went on to extol all of Mike's virtues and accomplishments and how his life had been the soundtrack of various points in their lives.
When my cousin's eulogy was given, I wondered who in the hell they were talking about. My cousin, the strong-armed robber, carjacker, drug dealer, statutory raper, had a big heart??? He was shy and unassuming?? He went to church every Sunday and fed the homeless?? Please. The only thing generous he did with food was to call some innocent man a chicken, and then pepper him with assault. The preacher summed it up that in death, you remember the good about a person and celebrate their lives and don't talk ill about someone who is no longer around to defend themselves. A chorus of “Amens” rang out.
Bullshit.
On Friday, Black folks' weren't talking about how MJ took pictures with little boys with no shirts on. Nor how he had such issues with his self-image that he totally destroyed his face. Nor how he dangled his newborn son from a hotel window or the enormous debt and financial mismanagement that riddled his life. Why?? 'Cause we was too busy celebratin' and tributin' and payin respect and whatnot. In my eyes, only talking about the good is no tribute at all. It's revisionism. That's like cooking out on Memorial Day, but not talking about soldiers' dying. That ain't a tribute... that's just a reason to not go to work and put some ribs on.
When a person passes, that is the time to celebrate the good AND bad. That is a time to reflect on the life the person lived so that those of us still here can learn something and apply it for the benefit of all those we love. Was MJ the greatest performer ever? Yes. Was he a musical genius? Yes. Did he have issues with self-esteem and drugs? Yes. Is he an example of the effects of child abuse? Yes. Was he inappropriate with little boys? Yes. As such, there are lessons to learn from his life.
Like it or not, MJ brought the topic of child molestation to the public eye for discussion. And that dialogue was needed... he single-handedly changed "Don't talk to strangers" to "Jimmy, no one is allowed to touch you in your special place. If it ever happens, you come tell me immediately, ok?" MJ was the first person that made me ask "Why doesn't he want to be Black?” He was my generation's introduction to plastic surgery. And I'd never heard of vitiligo until MJ. He contributed more to our lives than sparkly gloves, zipper jackets, and songs we could sing at school with our white classmates who knew nothing about Club Nouveau or Big Daddy Kane. So, to pay tribute to him, we have to remember his life in totality... not just do a moonwalk and remember Off The Wall playing at the 1986 family reunion.
My cousin did not help old ladies across the street, he mugged them on the corner. His life is (not was, IS) a cautionary tale about what happens when you choose the wrong friends and don't have enough confidence to stand on your own. His life warns what happens when you take shortcuts to riches at the expense of hard work, patience, and morality. My cousin was shot dead because he owed drug money to some ninja named Frogman. I will remember that just as much as I'll remember eating Good Humor ice cream on his front porch. That is paying tribute.
My mother is a cancer survivor. When she goes, I will remember her doting on me as a child just as much as I will remember her bald-headed and vomiting during chemo. Why should I forget the bad times?? Her life is a testament of strength and courage and faith and love. Why do I just want to remember the love part? What if we just remembered the "good parts" about Jesus... just the healing and water-to-wine stuff.... none of that bad crucifying stuff. That is no tribute. That is not honoring. It is impossible to pay your respects to someone without considering the troubles they had and how you can make life better for yourself and others by taking heed of the lessons that person's life teaches.
The first album I ever bought was Thriller. Last year, I bought the Thriller 25th anniversary CD with the Motown "moonwalk" Billie Jean performance on it. I pulled that CD out this past weekend and jammed to MJ. Ya know, in tribute. While out doing yard work, I contemplated his life and all the things I learned from watching him unravel over the course of three decades. And I thought of my cousin and how he'd unraveled too. Covered in sweat and grass clipping, I came inside and looked forward to the day when I can dance to P.Y.T. with my children and tell them stories from my childhood about the Good Humor bars with my cousin. And how I can teach them that their Blackness is beautiful, that they are strong and smart and don't have to let anyone else define them, that their bodies are not to be violated, and that if they ever get in a rut or need someone to talk to, Daddy is here. Because "where there is love, I'll be there."
Thanks Mike.