The Man in the Mirror is Dead

"When someone in the dark reaches out to you,
And touches off the spark that comes shining through
It tells you never be afraid" Michael Jackson, "Someone in the Dark"

Grade VI pupils have not heard of bulimia or anorexia but self-imposed starvation and sheer madness bought me my first 2 cassete tapes: Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and Gary V's first album, the latter once touted by showbiz kibitzers as the "Michael Jackson of the Philippines."

Then Prince came a-strutting - dirtier, much more flamboyant, and did I already say dirtier? This artist who sang that the color of rain was purple and opened my eyes that doves, like humans, also cried relegated "Thriller" into the dustbin. Then those boys from Birmingham, DuranDuran gripped my uterus (labia, behave) and I took a peek of The Dawn's JB Leonor's drumming stool (again, labia, behave) and discovered ideas could be enveloped, so bye-bye Michael.

What totally ruined what could have been an MJ fandom was mixed tape, the rage during my days of quiet content. A classmate named Edgar Ben was wooing a girl named Michelle so he briefed me about his genius of a plan. Side A was a repetition of the Beatles' "Michelle" and Side B was, you guess it right, "Ben" of MJ. And as the song went, "You've got a friend in me," MJ lost a fan but the trick worked wonders - B earned a wife in M many years later. Whew! Mixed tapes, Rob Gordon, you rock!

Anyhow, celebrity deaths, why do they affect us? I was probably one of the last to know about this recent cause of grief among music fans because I went downtown so early in the day without checking the news. A text from Mamon-bebe whom I didn't consider an MJ fan before or is he? kept me abreast, outscooping BBC where I normally get my first hand. Kudos!