Memories of Mike

Did anyone watch the Michael Jackson memorial service today? Me neither. I am recovering from a long 4th of July weekend camp out and it just didn't top my to do list. (Laundry did, however.) My husband's co-workers had it on at the office though and apparently it was quite the spectacle. So I thought, even though I wasn't Michael's BFF (heck, I never even met the guy) I would pay my own little tribute to the Prince of Pop.

My first memory of Michael Jackson occurred circa 1987 on a trip to Disneyland. He was the star of the Captain Nemo attraction, showing in 3D. Sadly, my most vivid memory is actually of the furry little flying creature that kept flitting about my head. I was so sure that if I just reached a tiny bit farther or moved just a teensy bit faster, I could snatch that thing right out of the air.

My next recollection comes from second grade. I had been invited to my first sleepover party. (Okay, probably not invited, but finally allowed to attend my first sleepover. My parents had a strict age limit for those sorts of things.) It didn't go very well. My friend's mother turned out to be a chain smoker and the only entertainment was watching Michael Jackson music videos. About the time "It doesn't matter if you're black or white" was being sung, I snuck into the kitchen and called my mom to pick me up.

Poor Michael fades from the picture for a time after this, not surfacing again until Junior year of college. My roommates and some good guy friends from our BYU ward decided to take a little road trip to San Diego. We were avid sports fans and the basketball team was playing in Cali that weekend. Our soundtrack for the trip? Michael Jackson's greatest hits. I confess I didn't know many of the lyrics. Leaving that sleepover early was finally coming back to bite me. So I sat in the back of the car and pretended to be excited. Fortunately once we hit the California border, the Beach Boys took precidence and I could join in the fun.

Fast forward a few years. I was married and expecting my first child at any moment. My younger sister was performing in a Stake Dance Festival and invited us to watch. I sat ever so uncomfortably in the high school auditorium throughout the show, enduring all of the fun comments people make when you are pregnant. "Wow! You look like you're gonna pop!" "Are you sure you aren't expecting twins? You're huge!" Things of that sort. My sister's ward eventually performed to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and I tried to figure out where she was standing so I could tell her whether she messed up or not. Unfortunatly they were all wearing black and white face paint so that didn't go over so well. After it ended I grabbed a late bite to eat at my parents' house and then headed home exhausted. As soon as we hopped into bed...my water broke.

So I guess, despite my apathy, Mikey really has been an integral part of my life. His songs have been there in the background of so many milestones: first trip to Disneyland, first sleepover, first child. How will I face the future without him? I'm not sure, but I'll do my best. RIP Michael Jackson!