Two Eulogies

I wish I could say that I have a bad habit of eulogizing celebrities, but that's a vast understatement. Fact is, I eulogize everything: Record stores that I've never stepped foot in, friends who move away, time periods of my life, a pet, and even entire years.

I guess, really, that's what this blog is -- A series of eulogies. And this post will be no exception.

1) Michael Jackson:

The second tape I ever bought was Michael Jackson's Dangerous. My sister and I would belt out "Heal the World," standing on top of our twin beds, fighting over who would recite the monologue at the beginning of the song. Eventually, we decided just to take turns. 

This is just one of dozens of Michael Jackson memories I have. After all, I was a child of the 80s. However, it's not my first Michael Jackson memory.

I remember seeing the video for Thriller when I was just a few years old. It must have been the first music video I ever saw, because I didn't know what it was. I remember thinking "They're making movies out of songs now." Because, really, that's what Thriller is -- a short film, set to music. 

I truly don't think I can think of another artist who is as entwined with my childhood, and even parts of adulthood, as Jackson, whether it be: The friend who used to kiss the screen when the Michael Jackson video came on at the end of the VHS copy of Free Willy; The Super Bowl half-time show where he stood completely still, for what seems like hours; Listening to Billie Jean on repeat in the Fshop audio room because it's what was used to test the speakers; Dirty Diana on car rides home. 

I realize I'm jumping on a bandwagon here. Jezebel posted the perfect headline this week: When a Superstar Dies, Everybody Gets to be a Jerk or a Poet for 15 Minutes, but I'm unapologetic about it. The last few days have been nostalgic, as everyone seems to be paying their own tribute to the King of Pop by blaring his albums from car and house windows. 

2) Jackie Washington:

While the death of Michael Jackson is being felt on a global scale, this one hits closer to home. Yesterday, local-legend Jackie Washington died, at the age of 89.

For as long as I can remember, Hamilton's Festival of Friends has been a long-standing family tradition. And nearly every year, until arthritis made it too difficult for him to play, Jackie Washington was a staple. 

According to The Hamilton Spectator, Washington was the grandson of a slave, and performed for 80 years.

It's a bad, bad week for music.