I remember when I was but 12 years old and I had some money left from some holiday or birthday and I decided to buy my first ever real record. I had records, but they were of the children's variety mostly, Disco Mickey Mouse, sound track to Lady and the Tramp and a Sesame Street one. I played them on my little blue suitcase player. I did have an Elvis record that I bought a yard sale at the neighbors of my grandparents. I also bought a pogo stick that day too. That was the best $2 that I ever spent!
My mom took me to Bi-Mart which was probably the closest thing we had to us that sold records. She rarely would venture to a mall or even past 16th Avenue. I remember the excitement of getting this new music that I had only heard on the radio. Also the only pop radio station only played music from 6 am to 8 pm. I had a little tape player, the flat conference room kind, nothing like a boom box. Strictly mono, no stereo. I would hold it next to an old clock radio and record my favorite songs that would play so I could listen to them later. It was surely the cool item to have for a 12 year old, at least I thought so at the time.
The background of the record cover was black with a guy wearing a white suit on the cover. It was so shiny and he almost glowed off the cover because his outfit was so white on the black background and his ebony skin. The glow of the white in his eyes surrounding the pupil was piercing. His skin so smooth looking. His hair perfect with these tiny little curls, one dangling just right over his forehead.
I was almost afraid to tear open the cellophane. I really didn't want to ruin the perfect package, but I couldn’t wait even to get home before I did. I was in awe at the picture I found inside as the album cover folded out. it was similar to the cover but a beautiful animal was next to him, a baby tiger. They both glowed off the page.
I listened to that record over and over. My parents thought I was nuts. I loved all the songs, each one and memorized the words. I especially loved his duets with Paul McCartney. I always loved the Beatles and since my music limits up to that point was that of my parents record collection, the Beatles were a better choice than that of Willie Nelson and Ann Murray...at least to a 12 year old.
The summer of that year I had a slumber party. These were the days when people didn't own VCR's. You rented one and some movies at the store. It was probably pretty expensive. I got to choose 3 movies. My friends and I chose Friday the 13th, The Last Unicorn, (good combo huh?) and The Making of Thriller! I remember we must have watched Thriller about a dozen times before we returned it. Friday the 13th only got played once and it scared the bajezzus out of us! We watched The Last Unicorn after that to clear our minds so we could eventually sleep.
Michael Jackson was such a big deal when I was 12. I had to get all the magazines, news clippings and anything he happened to be in. I had a stalker like collection. He was the Hanson or Jonas Brothers of my day. I even had earrings with his picture. I had the peechee folder and for Christmas my parents bought me the Barbie-like MJ doll. Yeah over the top much? I still have that stuff in a box somewhere. My dad called me yesterday and said "Yanno that doll we got you will probably be worth something now!" My parents were never fans...
I don't know what cause me not to be such a big fan. I just kind of stopped. I think it was the last sort of celebrity that I ever had an obsession with. I don't know if the allegations are true. One may think that there was something not right with the man. He had a horrible childhood and maybe that contributed to his self mutilation via surgery. Maybe it was true maybe it wasn't. I really don't know what to think of that. The Michael Jackson I remember as 12 year old innocent girl was to me an entirely different person than the Jacko of recent years. Especially since his looks have dramatically changed. He no longer resembles the glowing figure on the cover of the Thriller album. He instead looked more like a caricature of himself. These are my Michael memories...
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