My first concert was July 1984. My parents took me and my brother to Arrowhead Stadium to watch the opening show of the Victory Tour. Michael Jackson was already a beast as a solo artist, but it was the last time the Jackson 5 toured together. I was 6. I don't remember the set list or the performances. I can't tell you what Tito yelled out or what they wore. I do remember lots of lights, a hysterical crowd and a force of energy coming from the stage. My 6-foot-4 father lifted me on his shoulders so I could see. I remember seeing the Michael Jackson t-shirts on our way out. I wanted one. They were all too big.
I went home and studied my parents' Thriller album. I sat in the living room next to the record player and listened to it for hours, staring at the centerfold photo of Michael cuddled with a tiger cub. He had the skinniest wrists.
I remember the day my father brought home a Bad cassette for me. I wore it out. I sat in front of the mirror in my bedroom singing "Man in the Mirror" as earnest as I could. My favorite video is "Smooth Criminal." That lean amazed me. As a performer, he was beautiful. His moves, his apparent ease, his ability to command so much on stage from so many different kinds of people all over the world. Everybody knew Michael Jackson. I know the words even to the songs I don't like.
I cried when I heard he'd died. I wasn't his number one fan. I was never one of those hysterical girls on the verge of fainting over him. I never had posters or the jacket or the glove. But I did love Michael Jackson. I think it's because of him, when it comes to music, above all else, I want a great pop song that you can dance to.
