Michael Jackson may be an imposter
This is the column I wrote today for Tuesday’s paper about yesterday’s Michael Jackson press conference. I wanted to post it today because the world is still buzzing (not really) from yesterday’s press conference. The world also has been eagerly anticipating my reaction to it (not really).
Just forget it over the weekend and read my column fresh Tuesday, like you never saw this.
I watched a replay of the Michael Jackson press conference from last week when he announced he’ll play ten shows in London this summer. And I wanted to make sure I captured my thoughts. Because seeing Michael Jackson somewhere without a lawyer or hooded children is a big deal these days.
Plus, as you know, Michael Jackson is very important to me. I wouldn’t have become a professional dancer, specializing in choreographed street-fight re-creations, if not for Michael Jackson.
The clip I saw was about four minutes and 40 seconds long, and terribly confusing:
0:47: Michael walks in wearing a shirt Michael Madsen might wear to a Mexican restaurant on a Friday night. Except Michael has military insignias on his. Looks like the king has been demoted to the Sgt. of Pop.
1:11: Michael pumps his fist. The camera pans to the crowd, where an enthusiastic man with a giant head moans Michael’s name. We don’t have a lot to go on at this point, but I’m fairly certain this man is an escaped criminal maniac. Either that or I saw him working at the corndog hut at the mall.
1:29: Michael says “Thank you all” clearly and strongly. His voice is a bit deeper than usual. He looks pretty good. He hasn’t once had to bend over and pick up his face. I sense something amiss. We may have an imposter on our hands. I start to wonder if anyone knows where LaToya is …
1:40: Michael inexplicably starts chanting “This is it.” Then he pumps his fist some more. People go crazy. I get confused. He says these will be his final shows in London. People still cheer. Now I’m really confused.
2:19: Suddenly it hits me. That’s Johnny Depp up there, amusing himself. Either that or Liza Minelli. Then I remember that’s not true as Liza Minelli was with me Thursday.
2:21: I look at that long, stringy purple-black head of hair and ask myself why any man who could have an Afro, would choose not to? Outside of Art Garfunkel. I loudly start singing “My Little Town,” and forget what I’m doing …
2:33: Michael clutches his chest as if to say “thank you.” Either that or he’s faking a heart attack for attention. This is ridiculous. Where’s Tito to lend some sense to all this?
2:56: Michael says he’ll perform all the songs his fans want to hear. I quickly wonder if that means only his songs, or if I could request “My Little Town.”
3:20: The man with the giant head starts chanting something that sounds like “au jus.” Michael’s jacket apparently has the poor man believing he’s a waiter.
3:25: Michal thrusts his right hand in the air … and gives the Vulcan salute. Again, I have no explanation.
3:44: Michael says “see you in July,” and throws both arms over his head in a stunning tribute to Richard Nixon. Then he turns around, marches toward the back curtain, spins back around, and again thrusts a fist toward the crowd. I don’t know why, but I start to weep uncontrollably.
4:00: Michael leaves the stage. The crowd wants more. I want to know what just happened.
I’ll guess I’ll have to wait until July.