"He's out of our lives ..."
Death of Princess Diana.
Everyone remembers where they were or what they were doing when the above events took place.
And now the death of Michael Jackson?
I, like everyone else, find a certain grim fascination in the demise of someone truly in the public eye and they don't come much more public than Michael Jackson. I'm still not quite sure how a (suspected) child abuser managed to retain his fan base the way he did, anymore than I know how I continued to think he was brilliant, all things considered.
When I think of Michael Jackson, I think of my little brother desperately wanting a red and black leather jacket just like the one Mr Jackson wore in Thriller. It was hanging on a stall in the dubiously named Black Man's Market in Lewisham, South East London circa 1981. Back then, £100 was a whole heap of cash, but his (genuine) tears rolling his cheeks saw to him getting the jacket. To be fair, he never took the damn thing off for about 2 years so it was well worth it, not to mention him roping me in to learning the zombie Thriller dance. (I never could do it quite as good as him!!)
To the fans out there?
You have my sincere pity.
To the critics?
Dig out your vinyl LP's. They'll be worth a few bob now, I reckon!