Something happened in the news about Michael Jackson. Something about how the jury said it wasn't the doctor's fault or something like that blah blah blah...
Joe and I were talking the other day, about when MJ died. Joe was in Germany. He said it was a big deal, the people out there talk where they were when they found out.
I remember where I was! The parking lot of Target or something. Somewhere in Riverdale. If I could remember what parking lot, I could tell you exactly where I am in it. I could tell you what I was doing that day. Julie texted me to tell me... then I had to call her.
All this has brought up the memories of a little 5yo girl in my preschool, C. I'll call her C. She loved MJ. She would walk around singing his songs, she just adored him. She probably wasn't even alive when he was alive, but he left an impression on this kid.
One time she came up to me and told me she had a beautiful song to sing by the beautiful singer, Michael Jackson. She sang "Bad".
One day during lunch, she was talking about her love for this singer. The kids scoffed and told her she couldn't love him, he was dead. For some reason, that mattered.
"I can still love him!"
"C, he died doing drugs! Drugs are bad!"
"NO! Don't say that! It wasn't his fault!"
"My mom says it was!"
"No it wasn't! His doctor made him do it! He didn't want to! His doctor wanted him dead! It was HIS FAULT!"
They changed the topic, and that was the last I really heard of MJ at my work.
C also loved Justin Beiber. The problem was, she also loved the older sibling of one of our other 5yos. This was a problem. She had inner turmoil, because she simply didn't know who should be her boyfriend, who she should marry. The solution?
"I'm gonna marry S some day, and then he's gonna turn into Justin Beiber."