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photo courtesy of floetic_justice @

Man – the King of Pop is dead. I did not think I would be writing that any time soon.

Like most people of my generation, Michael Jackson played a very big role in my pre- and early teens. We all loved his music, his mad dance moves and his larger than life presence.

But I’m pretty sure I took it to another level when it comes to fanaticism. I adored him as a kid. I still do. I had all the paraphernalia – a sequined glove (made by my mom), the thriller jacket, the beat it jacket, pins, posters, pictures and all of his records. I listened to Thriller everyday and cried when he caught fire during that commercial filming. I attended the Jackson 5 Reunion Victory Tour at RFK stadium with my mom when I was 11. As a “DJ”, I judge a song’s value by whether or not I can mix it with Billie Jean.

Despite all the things that have transpired since the height of his popularity, all the things that he has been accused of (the worst of which I don’t believe he is guilty of), and all the odd things he’s done or said to have done, he will remain in my mind that brilliant, massively talented and plainly bad ass performer of the 70’s and 80’s.

I’m personally saddened by his death. At least I know I’m in good company.