M.J.

So, I will come out of my "blog hibernation" to say, wow, Michael Jackson is gone. I feel like such a nerd, but I still can't believe it. Now, don't get confused, I am not one of those people who will get a sticker on my Corolla that says "In Memory of Michael 1958-2009" and I would not have been the girl crying and fainting at a concert. I'm sad because music is one of the things, in my opinion, that spark the fondest memories. I have several songs that take me back to a certain time, even a particular day, and all of the memories called up are good ones.

Thriller is the song that stands out most to me. I can remember my dad playing the album (yep the actual vinyl record) and how Vincent Price's dialogue at the end scared the crap out of me. I could listen to him talking but once he started that creepy laugh, I just couldn't stand it. That laugh be creepy! (That was for you RB)

I can't help but feel a little longing for days passed spent at the lake listening to "Pour some sugar on me" or trying to dance with my cousins to "Cold Hearted Snake" or getting a makeup lesson from an older kid at my babysitters while "How will I know" from Whitney Houston played on the boombox! Oh, how I wish more of my days were spent at the lake or that there were rights of passage like wearing makeup that were still out there for me. This is where Amelia comes in. I can't wait to get to relive my youth in a way through her. I wonder who will be her Michael Jackson. Probably Hannah Montana. One day she might be blogging, likely from Mars and via telepathy, saying "OMG, Hannah Montana has died!"

She does have her own way of remembering Michael though. As we were putting her clothes on this morning, P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) was playing on the radio, and she said "Hey Mama, can I have a bumper sticker on my car seat that says P.Y.T.?" I would totally do that if I could find one.