Between the summer sun and the summer fun I think my blog is going to suffer, so today's trip to the mail box became eventful & blog-worthy when I realized I should post something so my four myriad readers don't get bored. Here goes...
Step 1: Walk to the box.
Lily: Mommy, why are you running a marathon?
Me: Because I want to get in shape and I want to help people who have cancer by raising money for them.
It is a good thing.
Lily: No it's not.
Me: Why don't you think it's a good thing?
Lily: Because I can't run with you.
Me: Melt.

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Step 2: Open the box.
Amidst the bills, checks*, fliers and junk, was this week's Entertainment Weekly and I'll give you ONE guess who was on the cover...Yep, our dearly departed King of Pop, Michael Jackson.
The photo made me stop in my tracks as it was one of my ALL TIME FAVORITE images of him, pre-blue cheese nose, pre-dangling infant fiasco and pre-tween boy sleepovers. He dons the famous red Thriller jacket (though the photo is black and white there is no mistaking the red jacket) and his infectious smile shines brighter than the Billie Jean glove. The photo captures an essence of innocence, humility and talent--that is the Michael I remember, and the one I mourn.

But there is so much more to him than that image, than that time in his life, and now that I am a mother of two little girls, I have to wonder how I feel about this bizarre carni ring leader being a legendary icon. This past Sunday, Bob Schleffer, the conservative news anchor on Face the Nation, who seemed to be channeling my dad, closed the show with a commentary on MJ. Essentially his point was that American Pop Idols are NOT American Heroes. And I must say, his words spoke to me. I realized that this absurd level of collective lamenting should be saved for the courageous and the brave. Those that die in the act of a noble deed; not for those who die from OD'ing on pain meds because his fear of life was intolerable.
Though I loved Michael Jackson as an entertainer, I do have to agree he should not be classified as a hero. He was a troubled, tortured soul. He was touched by God with a priceless gift. He gave the world incomparable joy through song and dance. His legacy of countless jammin' tracks, unique dance steps and high-pitched "whoas" will live on forever. But his life was certainly not one to admire or idolize. There should somehow, somewhere be a distinction.
I will cherish this Entertainment Weekly cover as my reminder of the good days, the cherished memories from my wonder years. And when I hear his songs, I will smile.
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Step 3: Walk home from the box.
As Lily ran ahead of us to grab her binky before nap, I heard three distinct words come out of Lexi's mouth.
Lexi: Bayh Bayh Wiwy.
Me: Inner Monologue--holy child prodigy--did she just say, bye bye Lily? What did you say Lexi?
Lexi: Bayh Bayh Wiwy. (And she waved. I swear.)
Me: Melt.

And that's the way we do it.**
* Just a quick note on the checks in the mail. I read The Secret--that's all I'm sayin'!
** Please tell me you caught my D*ck in a Box reference. I have no idea what the connection is with that song and my post except for the word "box", and maybe the fact that JT was HIGHLY influenced by MJ, but I had a little laugh at it. Hope you did too.
Per the comment below from my dear friend and fellow blog-follower Sean, I must plug a Facebook Group called "Moonwalk to Forget Old Michael," dedicated to the King of Pop. Please click here for more info.