Tuesday, July 07, 2009

A Funeral Fit to Die For

Nobody’s Perfect: I admit…I lead a worthless life. I was home today and watched the whole MJ funeral. (Yes, that’s what those that love him evidently called him.) I’ll find any excuse not to clean house.

And here, in random order, are various feelings and memories from the day…if you watched it and didn’t come away with the same feelings, well, Nobody’s Perfect.

1. It was a black funeral. How did I know that? Because every black person talked about how Michael raised the blacks from the tyranny of the white race. In fact, according to Jesse Jackson, the whole planet gets along now because of him. The globe they kept showing was of Africa. But still…where was Oprah? Whoopi?

2. His brothers were a riot. They all had Michael’s sequined glove on…and why all those grown men would wear the same outfit, and look as if they were right out of some old gangster’s movie, I could not figure out…except they thought we’d all like to see them go on tour. Michael…you definitely made the right move getting away from them.

3. There were two rival family camps: Joe Jackson’s camp, with all the brothers. and the “grandmother’s” camp (where the kids were). Whenever someone got off the stage they either ran to Joe, or the grandmother… who, even though she has the kids, will have to answer to the trustees for the money. At least Michael was smart enough to do that.

4. Joe Jackson…could now run for Congress, he’d fit right in.

5. Mariah Carey really did a great job, but she needs to watch that right hand, when she sings…it just goes up and down, and up and down, and up and down…and up and down…really Mariah, get a grip on that thing. Maybe get a velvet glove filled with lead.

6. They could have left Sheila Jackson, Jesse Jackson, and Queene Latifah at home, Sheila was running for another term, and maybe the next President: Jesse Jackson got lost in “We Are the World,” he didn’t know the words, and Queen Latifah, read a poem, and needs a job on MSNBC. Someone give her one for God’s sake.

7. The ONLY two highlights in my opinion were Stevie Wonder’s two great songs, (which were two of my personal favorites) and Brooke Shields…wait, there was a white kid who sang pretty good…but everything got really boring at the end, when the universal love message came through. Enough. Quit the torture, really. I don't WANT to get along with the rest of the world.

8. Brooke was the ONLY one at the funeral who gave a great eulogy, from the heart, and extremely eloquent. Neither the brothers, nor any one else, said anything about Michael as a person. Everyone was seeing the money but her. She was outstanding.

9. Except---one of the brothers told a story about seeing an old man in a record shop in disguise and his brother went up to him and said “What are you doing here?” And Michael said, “How did you know it was me?” And the answer was…his shoes. That was not scripted, it was actually good.

The ending was bad---horrible actually.

I’m sorry, putting that poor little girl Paris, up on stage at the end… (Jackson’s adopted daughter) and seeing Janet Jackson pushing the mike into her face and telling her to speak up, was just a bit too much to bear. Jackie Kennedy pulled that “use the children for effect” trick off with little John Jr, but at the time he was only a baby and had no idea the gravity of what had happened, unlike Paris who was in unbearable pain.

Paris Jackson was being used as a ploy to get the whole world to forgive Michael for all his alleged wrongdoings…and she was old enough to know that he was dead. Really, that right there was as tasteless, and crash an action as it gets.

It’s all about the money, isn’t it?

It’s got to bug them all that Michael left his estate to three adopted kids, instead of the family. In all fairness, they all had to watch Michael’s success and what did they do? Did they get into other fields? Anyone, besides La Toya?

Janet Jackson's nose has gotten so small, she looked like she had a pea with holes on her face. Now, she just needs to get rid of the boobs.

And while Magic Johnson’s Kentucky Fried Chicken story was funny to many, I thought…okay, does Magic have stock in Kentucky Fried Chicken? Does he own a few chains? What?

You know, black people are always thinking white people make fun of them…eating KFC and watermelon. It’s a stereotype, much like Billy Bob having guns and pickup trucks. It’s an old racial thing from who knows when, and I thought it strange that he should bring it up at the funeral…a real surreal moment in history.

Michael wasn’t eating too much KFC before he died, obviously.

At the end of the day, I was truly sad. Mostly because I grew up with so much great music…and now, music has taken a back road to politics…Stevie Wonder brought that home. Music lifts you up…politics, at this moment in time, is a heavy burden to face on most days. And when you write about politics, it’s hard to find anything uplifting…only humor--- but so much of what’s happening, isn’t funny. It reminded me how I was so much happier when my life evolved around music. Is it any wonder that humanity idolizes singers?

Artists that can truly touch the soul…those people are rare. And now, with the change in the industry, and the politicians trying to get rid of copyrights and patents, that kind of artist might forever be a thing of the past.

Michael Jackson would never have become a star on YouTube. And he would have never become a world wide celebrity had he been born anywhere but here…

That horrible prejudice place called America…the land of bleeding hearts.

Quick...somebody send me a band-aid.



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