So it's been a while since I have posted anything . . .

Been busy; traveling; working; watching rain drops; etc. etc. etc.

Now--about Michael Jackson. He was the King of Pop--I get it. I grew up with Motown--loved the young Michael and the Jackson 5; understand that Michael changed the world of Pop entertainment.

But yesterday watching just a smattering of the coverage of the memorial service I can't help but come back to this one point/question: When are we going to get over race in this nation?

Black celebrity after black celebrity celebrated how much Michael did for race relations in this nation. How he opened doors for other blacks to follow. Magic Johnson said it was Michael who paved the way for Americans of all colors to have his Lakers jersey hang on their bedroom walls.

Please stop! Before I throw up, please stop!

Michael Jackson was more conflicted about race than any of his white fans. He was a BEAUTIFUL young black boy and an extremely handsome young black man. Then he became something freakish and ghoulish in appearance. White skin that looked like all the life had been bleached out of it. Long un-African locks of hair. Very thin Nordic nose. He looked like he acted--weird. If you want to make an argument that Michael's internal conflict about his looks arose out of the tensions of growing up black in majority white America, OK. That is a discussion that would seem to have some merit. But white folks loved Michael and his music long before he started looking like us.

As for Michael Jackson paving the way for young white Americans to idolize and relate to African American athletes--that is patently ridiculous. I grew up always, always, always wanting to wear number 14 in basketball. I seldom ever got to because I was never the best on my team. But we all wanted to wear Oscar Robertson's number. You ask who was the Big O? He was Magic before Magic Johnson. One SEASON in the NBA he averaged a triple double--double figures in scoring, rebounding and assists. Nobody has ever come anywhere near to that--ever. We loved Oscar for the purity and beauty of his game. Oh, did I mention that Oscar Robertson was black and that I am white? Oh, by the way, there is another reason why we did not have Oscar's jersey hanging on our walls and it has nothing (repeat--nothing!) to do with Michael Jackson. First of all, the NBA did not merchandise its soul back then (no pun intended) and second of all, we could not afford such luxuries back in the day. H-E-double hockey sticks---we got one new pair of Converse sneakers a year and they cost all of $8 a pair!

So please stop this nonsense about Michael being some kind of door opener. People loved his music. People loved his style. People loved his charisma. People loved his edge. End of story. (Just like Elvis for the prior generation, I might add. Another King who died pathetically after the ravages of fame warped his final years.)

So I am wondering if fifty years from now people will still be talking about how this latest African American celebrity to die opened doors for younger black Americans. Unless they are talking about Barak Obama I don't want to hear it. It is so old and tired. Can we just get over it and let people be people? Let their talent speak for itself? Their accomplishments. Their whatever.

And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

RM