Mourning for Michael

Michael Jackson died this week -- and the whole world went nuts.

I'm not sure why. He was a talented musician. He sang well and danced well. I grew up listening to his songs when the Jackson 5 and the Osmonds were competing for most wholesome pop. I've enjoyed his music for a long time. I was in college when the music video Thriller forever changed how MTV created videos.

However, I don't get the whole adulation "oh my god!!!!!!" ordeal. He wasn't the head of any state. He didn't find the cure for cancer or AIDS. He didn't create peace in the Middle East. He didn't solve global warming. He sang and he danced.

I know music is important. Scientists/archeologists recently discovered and identified a 35,000 year old flute carved from bone. We celebrate with song. We grieve with the help of dirges. We define our generation by our music choices. We relax with the help of classical chords and we get wound up to the loudest beats. However, music doesn't feed the hungry, clothe the naked or house the poor.

I couldn't even use the internet yesterday because of everyone logging on to post their Facebook thoughts, or to write their blogs, or to find out the gruesome details that have not yet been released. As a nation, we can't wait to find out the lurid minutiae. And we know there are going to be details. After all, this was a black man who slowly became a white woman.

Perhaps we are more drawn to his oddity than to his talent. Unlike most celebrities, he didn't just crash his expensive car with driving drunk. Oh no, that was too mundane for Michael. He purchased circus animals and showed up for court in pajamas. He still climbed trees for inspiration but needed to be sheltered by umbrellas whenever he ventured out into public. Whenever Michael appeared, you knew there was going to be a show. And you didn't have to buy tickets.

I always felt sorry for Michael. Not that I knew him personally, but I don't think he had a lot of happiness in his life. I don't know if he would have turned out normal had he been left to play and romp and run like other children. I like to think he would have. But he sacrificed a normal life to create music that we all enjoyed. And maybe that's why we really mourn for Michael.