POOR Michael Jackson. Like his great hero, Peter Pan, he did not want to grow up. He certainly would not have wanted to grow old and die. He believed his youth was eternal. His premature demise was therefore a blessing in so many ways – a release from his many fears and problems.
Jackson was, quite clearly, not a well man. He always looked absurdly pale, haggard and deeply unhappy; eaten up by the fact that he had lost his childhood to stardom. He worried constantly about two things, to the point of obsession: the way he looked and his rising debts.
I love some of his music, even although it can be very samey. He was a great dancer and showman but, if he was the King of Pop, I would say the genre is heading rapidly down the plughole.
There are kings, such as Bob Dylan and Van Morrison, but not Michael Jackson, no way.
He was what he was and he excelled as a child performer and as an adult.
But, his music aside, it was the freak aspects of the man which seemed to attract his legion of fans. And there were so many oddball incidents – dangling his baby over the balcony, buying the Elephant Man's skeleton and his habit of sleeping in a hyperbaric chamber, to name but a few.
In a way, you had to feel sorry for him to appreciate him.
His friend Elizabeth Taylor has said repeatedly that it was Jackson’s vulnerability she loved. She pandered to it as well, phoning him every day, listening to his problems and frailties.
Suddenly, this musical icon, the bouncing boy of the Jackson Five, turned 50 and ordered more cosmetic surgery. The older he got, the more he tinkered with his face. If only he had reserved some of the love he had for his children for himself, his life might have improved. But his self-loathing knew no end.
Take another musical icon, Madonna, the original mother of reinvention. Rock star, film star, mother and wife, she became even more of an icon when she turned 50, to a generation which refuses to succumb to grey hair, wrinkles and comfy slippers. Madonna has made a career out of working out and looking good, but she was happy doing that. Michael Jackson never looked happy.
Unfortunately, few of us ordinary mortals have the time and money to look like A-list superstars. However, when you are in the public eye all the time, the temptation to spend money on cosmetic surgery must be very tempting. The last thing you would want to do is grow old gracefully.
Anyway, a youthful approach to life is preferable to adopting the granny-in-a-rocking-chair stereotype. Within reason.
Jackson took everything to ridiculous extremes, especially the surgery.
The biggest tragedy in the singer’s life was the way the plastic surgery industry kept on pandering to his overwhelming lack of self-belief. So many people opt for plastic surgery – not because they want to feel better about themselves, but to impress their neighbours, friends, movie directors and fellow-celebs.
A decade or so ago, Hollywood celebrities did everything they could to keep their lifts a secret. After the op, they would disappear for several months. These days, Hollywood’s men and women discuss their nose jobs, facelifts, and tummy tucks as if they were a normal everyday activity.
The trouble is that most people who want plastic surgery need psychiatric counselling beforehand. They need to understand that even if they are wrinkle-free, they will still be every bit as neurotic and miserable.
I happen to believe that women, and men, should try to grow old gracefully and be proud of the wrinkles experience brings in its wake. The nip, tuck and peel become too simple a way out. And they don’t always work.
Who will ever forget the moment actress Jamie Lee Curtis revealed her cosmetic surgery blunders?
“I’ve had a little lipo,” she said. “I've had a little Botox. And you know what? None of it works, none of it.”
It was brave of her to be so honest. The star of A Fish Called Wanda said she was on a crusade to shatter the myth of the body beautiful. I doubt she will succeed, no matter how noble her intentions. The desire to be young and beautiful is too ingrained.
And it killed Michael Jackson.
He took pills, for sleeping, to lose weight, to keep depression at bay. Yet all he had to do was look inside himself to find what was wrong and put it right. He did everything for the sake of keeping up appearances.
The biggest emotion on display for the life of Michael Jackson is pity, at the life and talent he squandered. You even felt sorry for him at his trial on child sexual abuse charges in California. But the whole lurid spectacle was worldwide news. That always happens with famous people who are accused of child abuse.
We turn a blind eye to child sexual abuse in families, where it is most common, but we are quite happy to turn the spotlight on some poor celebrity we imagine is up to no good. It is a way of distancing ourselves; of creating an “us and them” situation. We, nice families, don’t do that sort of thing, but the celebrities of this world might. They are fair game.
But, the truth is, Jackson had a side to him which, in any other human being, we would find abhorrent.
I may be in a minority here, judging by the tributes gushing in from all over the world.
Celine Dion got a bit carried away when she said Jackson’s death reminded her of when Kennedy died. How would she know? She is not old enough. Celine also said Jackson was the greatest thing ever to have happened to music.
Ahem. Such hyperbole is an insult to us all.
Michael Jackson was a flawed individual, a poor, misunderstood soul whose music was never that great.