Be clear: Michael Jackson has been a friend in my head FOREVER. Since my certified tone deaf ass could screech a out, "A-B-C, easy as 1-2-3," MJ and his music have been a part of my life. And trust, our friendship was hardcore.
It spanned his rise to superstardom, the freak accidents, a complete ethnicity/race change and yes, even the recent controversial fall from grace. Forreal, forreal, me and Mike been through it: He'd make me happy, he'd make me sad, he'd humble me, and then leave my jaded self in complete disbelief.
And still, I jammed on.
So riddle me this- how does a man who's musical genius changed the WORLD die of cardiac arrest at freakin' 50?
Not for nothing, people like MJ are supposed to either: A) live forever or B) die in some unexplainable event like an airplane disappearing over the Bermuda Triangle. NEVER, EVER the mundane heart attack. I mean, wasn't that the point of the hyperbaric-oxygen-tank-thingy that he's allegedly been sleeping in since the 80s? Sigh. I can't.
Raise your glove in the air...