Michael Jackson – Death of a Misunderstood Icon

Memorial group invitations on Facebook were my first notification that Michael Jackson had died and the news was later confirmed via CNN. Having never really been a huge fan of Michael the news did come as muttered shock. Whether you loved him or hated him, one thing can not be denied – on 25 June 2009 the world lost a Pop Icon! His death had me wondering – How did he die? Was it natural causes ,a heart attack, painkiller overdose or did all the plastic surgeries he had finally caused his death? There remain so many questions not only about his death but also about his life…
Not being an expert on Michael Jackson I can only air my opinion. We first saw him emerge into fame as very attractive young black man, who as his career progresses slowly transformed in front our eyes into an alien like white female caricature like person. As his music evolved so did his appearance and as his fame grew he became more of a recluse. In my opinion, he was a very lonely, deeply misunderstood and a broken person. He never seemed quite satisfied with his life and over compensated for what he yearned for by material possessions and what he did not like about himself he opted to fix through surgery. He is even described as the text book case example for a psychiatric disorder called Body Dysmorphic Disorder (a disorder in which the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by an imagined or minor defect in his or her physical features, in some cases correcting these features through surgery). Michael Jackson did not by any means have a normal childhood. Since a very young age he was in the lime light which effectively deprived him of the experience normal children would have. Therefore, it should not come as surprise that in his adult live he surrounded himself possessions and symbols reflecting any child’s fantasy – his Neverland Range for example! His preoccupation with children could also be viewed as his need to regress back to his lost childhood. All this brought much unwanted and negative publicity to him; being charged with alleged sexual abuse of young boys. Charges he was never found guilty off. Many people still believes in his guilt and that he only got acquitted due to his fame and fortune. We will never know the truth as it now will go with him to his grave. Personally, I always wondered whether he was indeed a predator disguised as a philanthropist or just a deeply misunderstood person with a child like innocent ignorance.
The delusional aspect of Michael Jackson’s always fascinated me. He never admitted to having all the extensive surgeries he had, even though it was blatantly obvious. His nose took on a life of it’s own with many fearing, in recent years, that one day it will fall off. Some even speculated that his noose had been replaced with a prosthetic due the fact that the nasal area was so severely damaged that there was no tissue or bone left to restore. This made me wonder how the paramedics tried to resuscitate him when they found him at his home. Did his facial alteration in any away complicate their work in their attempt to revive him?

Having altered his appearance so dramatically over the years and with all the complication as a result, I often asked myself, when he looked at himself in the mirror without make up, some of the prosthetics he was said to use, what did he think? In his mind did he achieve his aesthetic goal or had he transformed himself into a monster? In the last year he must have had time to reflect on his past and career as he was preparing for his come back; I am sure he must have been proud of his achievements and quite saddened at how he nearly lost everything. If he did not pass away his come back would have been a success due to all his devoted fans, but would his status as King of Pop ever again have been reestablished?
No matter how queer Michael Jackson’s life may have appeared to us, who didn’t know him, one thing is undeniable – the contribution he made to the music industry was invaluable, lasting and like many icons before him his legacy will live on! Many of us may have judged him, rightfully or wrongfully so, for erring when it came to his appearance, the choices he made, his flamboyant and sometimes bizarre behavior and relationships he forged with children, his marriages to Lisa Marie Presley and Debbie Rowe and the way he choose to raise his 3 children. Michael Jackson’s life was by no means an ideal example for anyone, but not having walked in his shoes in death he should be respected and remembered for his contribution and his legacy he leaves behind, and not for his perceived mistakes. My condolences go out to his family, friends, children and loyal fans. He shall be truly missed. My wish is that his children will have a normal and safe life and one day, when they reach adulthood, be able to look back at their father’s life and proud of him.

Till next time.

Michael Jackson - Thriller live (1987)

DIY, A Butt-Crack and A Back Injury!

There are 3 physical conditions that I dislike: Being sick, being in pain and being immobilized! Over the weekend a personal injury that had me in pain and being semi-immobilized was an imperfect ending to a tedious week. Having hurt my back I learned 2 important things, both Murphy’s Law and Gravity can be bitches and certain DIY work around the house is best suited for those who knows what they are doing.

In our house my husband is the DIY go-to-guy, and so for a good reason – instead of fixing things around the house I tend to make things worse. So when 1 of our power sockets behind our home entertainment system decided to give problems, I decided fidget with it –always a huge error in judgment from my side. The power socket being in quite a precarious position I had to twist my body in an odd way to reach it. Instead of using common sense and moving the cabinet out of the way for easier access, the blond in me decided it’s too much of an effort and queerly enough, in my mind, not only could I reach the socket but I would be able to fix it all the while my body being contorted as if I was playing a game of twister. Needless to say, having my spine bend in this manner hurt my back and instead of fixing the power socket I blew the power switch. So now the socket was destroyed, my back was injured and my husband was extremely annoyed.

My husband being the practical one he moved away the cupboard took out his DIY gadgets and confirmed that I indeed destroyed, once again, something that could have been fixed only if I had the patience. While cursing he took the thing apart and the next day we had to buy a new power socket to replace the one I broke. The woman in the hardware store was quite intrigued by this gay couple, one being semi-immobilized & visibly in pain and the other shopping for a power socket but instead inspecting light switches (I think had we been 2 lesbians the situation would have seemed less bizarre). I recall her asking us 3 times whether we had picked the right item because after purchase they don’t give refunds. I guess I can’t blame the sales woman for being quite concerned – 2 effeminate gay boys the 1 hurt and both shopping for electrical equipment, I can just imagine what she thought had happened to my back and how it relates to our purchase. After arriving home, hubby replaced the socket and while doing so the stereotypical handyman butt-crack was clearly in my sight. Soon all electrical problems were resolved, but my back was still injured. Being a Sunday I had to wait until Monday to see the Dr.

The strange thing about hurting my back was the reactions of my friends and co-workers. For some bizarre reason all thought I had injured my back through some form of acrobatic sex with my husband over the weekend. I have no idea why that would be the 1st thought that comes to mind from people that know me, but in this instance reality was far more boring. Arriving at the Dr’s consultation room, being cranky due to the throbbing pain I was disappointment to find the waiting room quite full. There was a mother with her 2 children accompanied by their grandmother. The 2 children were behaving as if they have peeked on a sugar rush and I swear they were in serious need of Ritalin or some form of Tranquilizer. They were running around screaming, throwing tantrums and being out of control. An older lady and I caught ourselves on a couple of instances looking at these kids and then to each other, both thinking the same thing – please just get them the hell out of here! I finally lost my temper was when 1 of the kids threw me with a stuffed toy. Without thinking twice I regressed back to being a 4 year old and threw the kid back with the toy, then jumped back into adult mode and gave the kid the evil you must behave now eye brow lift which was perfected by my mother. Luckily my Botox started to ware off so I could get the eyebrow up high enough for the greatest fear impact.

After seeing my Dr I was off to the pharmacy to get my medication. It seemed everyone in my neighborhood fell sick over the weekend and I was faced with another one of my pet peeves - standing in a queue! Those 2 terrors from Dr’s consulting room were also there but this time they stayed clear of me. After the pharmacist collected all my medication he did the normal explaining how I should take it routine, ending with the words “You should probably not be operating any heavy machinery while taking these pills”. As soon as the words left his mouth and he saw my confused reaction he realized his mistake. I am no crane operator or truck driver! Being confused by what he said and having another blond moment I asked “does a BMW qualify as heavy machinery?” he paused for a moment and answered “Yes”. Promptly followed by my next question “The meds are for 5 days and I am only booked off for 2, how am I suppose to get to work for the remaining 3?” Clearly confused he thought for a few moments and answered “I don’t know” and proceeded to finish dispensing my medication while looking at me as if I just ruined his day and seeing flashing images of a BMW causing a major car pile up on the highway – and it would be his fault!

Being 2 days into my recovery, the pain has subsided largely due to the fabulous medication and tomorrow I will be attempting to drive to work. So if you see a black BMW coming your way please get out of the way! I have made a conscious decision not to attempt any future DIY work in our house and to rather have husband try and fix it – even though he mentioned on numerous occasions how he despises it! Having DIY projects pop up around our relatively old apartment every now-and-again and me being quite fond of staring at my husband’s behind while he's working on these projects the next project will be handled with greater care – I will not be tempted to fidget with anything seemingly broken again soon!

Till next time!

Kathy Griffin - She'll Cut A Bitch

(Cat)astrophe

Not being ready for fatherhood or facing the challenges of gay adoption, my husband I am quite satisfied just having our 3 cats. As all pet owners know having a pet can bring great joy to ones live but they can also sometimes be the source of many head aches. Having had 2 of my cats now for almost 10 years and the youngest for 4, what they have brought to my life has ranged from pure pleasure to pure frustration.

The birth of my eldest 2 cats was nothing less than a catastrophe for their mother’s owners. You see their mother was a pure bred Balinese cat who won many awards and had paperwork reflecting her blood line that could make royalty envious. The owners arranged 2 days of passionate copulation for her with another pure bred Balinese Tom Cat. After 2 days, being satisfied that the arranged visit was consummated and she was indeed pregnant, her arranged lover was returned home. However, her burning desire was not yet satisfied and she sneaked out of the house for a rebellious and passionate fling with an alley cat. So when my 2 bundles of joy emerged, the owner was shocked and angry. Now not being able to sell them, as they were half breeds, I got them for free.

From the get go, both cats were highly strung animals: One being highly intelligent but having a slight nervous disorder and the other being very pretty but not the sharpest tool in the shed and with mood swings. Their first night in their new home was an eventful one. I got scratched and peed on and a couple of days later one’s foot got caught in the blinds and my husband got scratched and bitten while I had to cut the cat’s foot free from the cords it got tangled in – both experiences was traumatic for all involved. As time passed they settled into their new home, and their true personalities started to surface. Mizou was the smart one who loves attention and managed stress by biting her nails. Nikita was the moody and neurotic one who tends to keep grudges and hates children. When you piss Nikita off she will patiently wait for the opportune moment and her vengeance usually is swift and precise.
When mating season came, my house turned into a nightmare. Mizou was super fertile and she had 4 litters of kittens. At least when she was in heat she would go out and do her business with the efficiency of a professional prostitute. When Nikita was in heat the real nightmare started. She became a loud, sleazy sexually inept slut! She would go around the house moaning for hours and hours and she never seem to be able to fall pregnant.

The last time Nikita was in heat I was woken up at 3am. Nikita was in a tree outside our bedroom window screaming waking up the whole neighborhood. She was in the tree and at the bottom was 5 very horny Tom Cats. She got more than she bargained for and fled a potential gang rape. It took me almost 2 hours to coax her down – I also had to apologize to all our neighbors! Shortly after this event she finally fell pregnant for the 1st and last time. When she had a litter circumstances emerged that had us keep one of her children and the 3rd member of our family became Sasha. At this point we swore we would not survive another mating season and all 3 our cats were sterilized.

Nikita being neurotic she passed on a few of her personality deficiencies on to her off spring. Her one child lived in a closet for a year, I was told, and the other one had an eating disorder (he became obese). Sasha definitely got her mother’s looks but she’s not very smart. She does the cutest things but she would not survive a day on the street and when it comes to fights she always tend to run away screaming. Having the 3 of them cohabiting with us have been a joy, but when there is drama it usually is epic. Everyone who has ever babysat for us, when we go on holiday, all have their own stories to tell about the craziness our 3 balls of fur can cause.

Sasha recently had an eye operation. The morning she had to go to the vet the pet carrier was prepared. The other 2 cats fully understand that when the Pet Voyager 100 gets taken out someone is going somewhere unpleasant. So when they caught a glimpse of the box of potential torture they promptly disappeared. Sasha was completely oblivious to this but when she finally put 1 and 1 together she too vanished. After a brief search she was located in the closet hiding behind clothes and was promptly placed inside the carrier. The drive to the vet was load as she made her displeasure abundantly clear. However, once at the vet she resigned herself to the inevitable and calmed down. The operation went well and she came home the same day, very annoyed with me but happy to be home.

The task of giving Sasha her medication was bestowed onto my husband. Getting a cat to swallow a pill is a skill I don’t have! Cats are sneaky creatures and just as you think they swallowed a pill they will go around the corner and spit it out. The only time I attempted to give her a pill she spit it out 3 times, once under the dining room table, then under the bed and finally in their litter box (I swear I could hear her laughing every time she spit out that damn pill thinking I wouldn't notice or find it!). Only with the 4th attempt did she finally swallow it.

Most pet owners will tell you that their pets become like your children, and in our case that is very true. Sometimes they are high maintenance, can cause havoc and even harm your house guests, as Nikita has done on several occasions, but at the end of the day I can’t imagine my life without them. So until we are rich enough to afford a full time nanny and can adopt our own little human bundle of joy, our 3 furry critters with their dramas, tantrums and blunders are more than enough entertainment.

Till next time.


Elvira Kurt at Just For Laughs