...on the floor in the round?
Although I have said it before, I will say it again: "I was born to be a DJ".
Music has been an integral part of my life since I can remember. At a very young age I began associating music with feelings, times and situations.
To this day I can hear certain songs and my despite my previous demeanor, the song will take me to a mood fitting my general feelings from the time I most heard the song.
For instance, I could be having a crummy day and hear "Roll On" from Alabama and smile because it takes me back to a day of roller skating in our basement, in a bathing suit, with a sash- made of paper stapled in to end -wrapped around me, with crown made of foil perched on top of my head. Wasn't it common knowledge that roller skating in your bathing suit propelled you to the top rankings of the talent portion of the Miss America pageant?
However, the mood change isn't always a good one. There are other songs, innocent songs, that when I hear them, my mood changes to a very heavy, oppressed feeling. To this day, I am not positive of the reason why. Obviously those songs must be connected to a memory that isn't as positive as a Miss America/Roller Derby pageant, but hey, what memory could compete with that, right?
Music - all kinds- has influenced me my whole life.
My. Whole. Life.
I don't remember a time when it wasn't important to me.
I remember that back in the year of 1982 at the ripe old age of six, I received the album "Thriller" (I assume for my birthday) from my mom's friend Carolyn. I was standing in the middle of a nearby Softball Complex, waiting for my mom's team to play. We were by the concession stand as I ripped off the paper of the cassette tape.
I remember not knowing who Michael Jackson was, but not being able to wait to find out.
After, there was no looking back.
I even remember having a TV rolled into a school classroom and the class as a whole, got to watch the "Thriller" video unfold on the screen before us.
I also remember his "Remember the Time" video being shown to the world in the middle of Prime Time TV sandwiched between two TV sitcoms.
It seems the world did stand still for him.
Thursday, my sister called and left a message with Steven for me to call her IMMEDIATELY! He told me that she said it was "very important". I guess she had told him, but he wanted her to be the one to deliver the news.
"The King of Pop is dead"
It took me a moment to process this news. "What? Michael Jackson?" - just to make sure that we were on the same page. Knowing that I had introduced her to everything "Michael", I felt sure that she had it right....but I had to make sure that in a momentary lapse, she wasn't referring to Justin Timberlake or something.
Because, she is a lover of Justin and in her mind, he might possibly be "King..."
Fortunately for Justin and unfortunately for Michael....we WERE on the same page.
My stomach felt hollow.....and I felt sad.
I wasn't really sure why and for the past couple of days I have contemplated it.
In the last several years he became a freak show...for sure. There is no way to explain the bizarreness of his actions or words. His changing appearance only added to the oddity that he had became.
But as this sadness came over me, I think I was mourning a chapter of my life closing. Honestly, it had probably been closed for years now.....but with his passing, it will not open again.
I think that maybe I had hoped that at some point he would make a comeback and with his return would come answers to the questions and a return to taking his place as the Michael that everyone had fallen in love with many years before.
Now, there will be no return. There will also be no answers.
My husband who is nothing but country, except for an occasional "Back in Black" (which I think takes HIM back to high school), doesn't understand a lot of my musical tastes. He is very straight forward: Don Williams, Merle Haggard, Chris LeDoux, Hank Jr. and an occasional, Lynard Skynard.
He knows I love music and sits patiently in the wings, while I sing my heart out in the car - convinced I sound "just like" whoever it is I am imitating.
Last night, I was sitting in the car, with my iPod turned to Michael Jackson and was listening to "Dirty Diana" and "Smooth Criminal".
I found the feelings that rushed through me when the first couple beats of the song, to be nothing but positive. Almost euphoric, if you will.
My foot was tapping, my body was slightly rocking with the beat. I just couldn't sit still.
I looked over at Steven and said, "Doesn't this music just make you want to move and dance?"
While driving, he cast a glance over to me and I think I saw the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. "I think I must have missed that. It isn't in me."
"What? - Not in you?" I began questioning the fact that I had been with him for 17 years and he didn't even feel the need to dance when Michael came on. My head was spinning....
"I just don't get the 'kind of screaming' that he does." The final nail in the coffin. How could we recover from this?
I couldn't hold my tongue. I was grieving and he was speaking ill of the dead and, it seemed like, my musical taste. "Well.....you are one of very few. You have seen the TV. You have seen the numbers.......I think you are in the minority!"
And then, in a very wise move, he agreed with me.
I think he even muttered something about the fact that he wasn't "trying to take anything away from me..." (or him). And because of that I forgave him.
Now he will get the chance to put his money where his mouth is as he "allows" me to watch 24/7 coverage of Michael and bites his tongue when I feel compelled to dance and sing along in the middle of the living room whenever one of his songs come on......