Okay, so I’ve been trying to avoid the Michael Jackson madness — an effort that’s been as successful as Joaquin Phoenix’s rap career. Perhaps it’s because I’m already consumed with work and this bun I have in the oven, and just need to turn on the television and lose myself in something frivolous for an hour a day. Something a teensy bit more frivolous than death. Perhaps it’s because I feel like MJ — MJ the legendary entertainer, that is — passed away many years ago. Perhaps it’s because the media has exploited the situation to the point that we’ve been slapped with desperate headlines like, “Iowa fair to have butter statue of Michael Jackson!” Whatever it is, I’ve found the ubiquitous coverage of his death to be downright maddening.
Even with my raging pregnancy hormones, hormones that cause me to cry if I drop a Frosted Flake on the floor, I haven’t shed a single tear over Michael Jackson. Correction: I HADN’T shed a tear until…
… I watched MJ’s 11-year-old daughter, Paris Katherine, give an impromptu speech at his memorial. A speech that touched this newfangled maternal side of mine. A speech that made me realize, holy crap — Michael Jackson’s kids know how to TALK?
Yes, indeed, they do.
“I just want to say ever since I was born, Daddy has been the best father you can ever imagine,” Paris said, sobbing. “And I just want to say I love him so much.”
Then she turned and buried herself in Aunt Janet’s arms. *SIGH* Yeah, I’ll admit that yanked at the ol’ heartstrings. Those poor kids; what a life.
But, really, a butter statue, Iowa?! That’s just wrong. UNLESS it is served with toast bearing the image of Farrah Fawcett. Then pass me a plate and knife!