I had a very emotional moment with a Lifetime Movie tonight. In the movie, a little boy was kidnapped by his biological father (like most Lifetime movies) then returned to the mother five years later. Upon returning the child was withdrawn, angry, troubled, dangerous, and hateful towards the mother. In the last five minutes, of course, the mother and child had a made-for-TV heart to heart moment where they reconnected. The child poured his heart out to his mom, listing all the terrible things his father did to him. And then came the moment that made me start crying— “and there were no kids to play with my age.”
Fuck. When the kid said that I just broke down.
Of all things, after seeing this movie my thoughts turned toward Michael Jackson. Saying I’m obsessed with following the very public train wreck of his career would be putting it mildly. I saw the original documentary. Dateline. 20/20. His story. His family’s story. I am close to purchasing a ticket so I can go out and see Neverland Ranch myself!
The most controversial statement Michael Jackson made was about sleeping in bed with children. Creepy? Yes. At least to the average American citizen. In his own defense, Jackson talks of the innocence and unconditional love of children, and he feels there is nothing wrong with sharing a bed and sharing a peaceful activity like sleeping.
In one way, I do see Jackson’s point. Being an adult sucks. I am so fucking jaded, road worn, unimaginative, and hopeless sometimes. I honestly feel like I truly cannot depend on or trust a single living person. And I’m not even worth a billion dollars. I think any of us could imagine what kind of friends a billion dollars would attract.
There is a certain logic in Michael Jackson hanging out with children. I didn’t have the manipulative self-serving mind I have now when I was the age of 10.
Like any given healthy male in his 20s I dream about sex with other adults and sometimes when I wake up I have a boner. Whoa that’s so not cool if there’s a kid in my bed! That would be fucking weird. Maybe Michael Jackson really DOESN’T wake up with boners like the rest of us, and that’s just too difficult for us to grasp or understand. I was almost convinced he’s a child molester, but if he truly isn’t, I do offer him respect for trying to fight a battle for purity and innocence. And for choosing to surround himself with purity and innocence.
I was at the club last night and it was 80s night. When “Beat It” came on the dance floor got packed. It was almost a spiritual moment. Everyone went crazy. It makes me wonder what’s really going on. Why are people really disgusted with Michael Jackson? Is it because he really does want twelve year old dick? Or is it because his analysis of adulthood is dead right,and it scares the shit out of us?
I wish I had some kids my own age to play with tonight. But I’ve been in a bad mood all night. I looked online for someone to connect with. But the pickings were pretty bleak. I miss Sam Alimo knocking on my door and dragging me out to the softball field to make fun of me and make me realize what a crappy athlete I am. And always will be. Maybe I’m more mature than Michael Jackson, because I interact with people my own age level. Of course, much of my interaction is gossiping, complaining, or self promoting. If by hanging out with children innocently its those things Michael Jackson is avoiding, then he’s my hero.