My bedroom walls were plastered with posters of him. The monthly Tiger Beat magazines, loaded with stories and pictures of Michael, couldn't get to me fast enough.
A lot will be written about him but the one certaintly a young girl, like me, had growing up in the wilds of SE Asia was that I could always count on Michael Jackson to drive away the lonely hours. I didn't have a TV. I had no Pop Culture. But I had the magazines and the record albums that my grandmother sent me to keep me occupied.
She knew how much I loved him. Before we left the U.S. I used to lay on her bed listening to him on the radio. His voice was mesmerizing to me.
I guess she could tell my heart belonged to him. Every time I hear "ABC" I think of my Grandmother.
When I got back to the states we would listen to his albums at our slumber parties. My girl friends and I liked to sing along to "Ben." He was part of our P.E. classes as we made up dances to his songs. My transistor radio went everywhere with me which meant he was there too.
Through Middle School, I watched the "Jackson Five" every Saturday morning on T.V.
Thriller came out when I was in college. He was still bigger than life.
Much will be written about his life, his peculiarities, his ups and downs, his personal challenges and criminal allegations. But right now I only want to remember his music and the wonderful way he made me feel for the first twenty years of my life.
Thank you Michael. I really will miss you.