It's been a LONG, LONG time. I'll spare you any excuses or explanations...I'm back though. Missed PPT but needed to get my mind right. Still not sure if my mind is "right" but I know that blogging helps me and my spirit in more ways than one and posting here is no longer a luxury.
So much has happened since my last post. One major event of course was the death of Michael Jackson. By now you're probably MJ'd out. Let the man Rest In Peace for goodness sake, right? I feel ya. But before I can begin to post on new boutique finds, hot designers, fledging trends and such, I had to share how the King of Pop's death (and life) relates to little ole me and my family.
Since my full-time gig is in the media, I learned of Jackson's passing before most of the world. The very first thing I did when my boss confirmed to my coworkers and I that it was true? I called my big bro. There was no long, drawn out convo -- I had work to do. But he was the person that I immediately thought off.
See, my brother was a mere toddler when "A-B-C" hit the airwaves; all of two years old. I wasn't even thought of yet. But my mother loves to tell the story about how my brother blasted that record (by himself) on his Fisher Price record player. All. The. Time. It was one of those legendary stories in our household growing up. My mother said she, as a new mother, was a tad bit concerned at first, but quickly rationalized that it couldn't have been too bad since at least her baby boy was learning his alphabet and numbers (kinda, sorta).
Well, I am convinced that this helped spark my brother's love affair with music. It's crazy because even though I wasn't even born when the song was popular, hearing "A-B-C" causes a big Kool-Aid smile to appear on my face. I instantly think about my big bro.
My brother and me, circa 1980. (We're both Bsquared, by the way!)
What I love most about music is it's power to transform us to another place and time. Sure, I can get a mean little two-step in on a classic Jackson 5 cut, but the memories of my brother and I walking to the store growing up (and hearing my father instruct as my brother got to the front door "Take your sister with you!"), the letters my bro and I wrote each other when he first went away to college, recalling how he helped me as I struggled with statistics in high school...Those are the things I fondly recollect when I hear a vintage J5 or MJ record. When Janet so elquently informed us all on this year's BET Awards, "To us, he was just family," I felt her pain.
The Younger Years: Janet and Michael
They say "it takes one to know one" and from one doting, younger sister to another, my heart still feels for Janet. However the world saw Michael Jackson -- good, bad or indifferent -- he was her big brother. And he always will be.