Being Famous: Dead Or Alive

Yesterday was the 1-year anniversary of Michael Jackson's death and in the midst of all the "Remembering Michael" and "Where Are They Now" retrospectives I'm once again contemplating the concept of fame in America. I'll start out by acknowledging that I was never a Michael Jackson fan. Maybe because I didn't have MTV and wasn't going to dance clubs back in the early 80s, or maybe I'm just a total dweeb when it comes to pop music, but somehow I missed out on the whole King of Pop thing. So when the weirdness happened - the plastic surgeries, the little monkey, the little boys, the lawsuits, etc., I didn't have a residual pool of affection in my heart to soften my perceptions that this guy was a total creep and very likely a criminal who could use his money to buy his way out of trouble.

By March of 2009 I also would have said that he was way past his prime as an artist and as a performer. That's when his comeback series of concerts was announced and I found myself wondering if anyone still cared about Michael Jackson. To me he seemed so "over" as a pop star sensation. Would people really shell out big money to see this guy in concert? I didn't think so and boy, was I wrong about that.

When Michael Jackson died a few months later, we were plunged into the ritual media feeding frenzy that I now think of as "Dead Celebrity 101". There's no question that Jackson's death was big news, but if you think you can gauge a celebrity's true importance by how much press coverage they get when they die, I have three words for you: Anna Nicole Smith. Even way back in the last century, when JFK, Jr. died in 1999, a few clear-eyed commentators observed that the media coverage of that event far exceeded John-John's actual importance, and that was back in the days before "#MichaelJacksonDies" could crash Twitter.

So what is it, really, about Michael Jackson? Unlike some of today's here-today, gone-tomorrow teeny-bopper pop star sensations, in his prime he was a spectacularly gifted artist who had an authentically lasting impact on our culture. On the other hand, his glory days were 25 years ago and there was a lot of authentically troubling behavior between then and now, whether or not he actually broke the law. I believe he'll fare better, in terms of historic reputation, now that he has been lifted up into the rose-colored gauziness through which we perceive Famous People Who Tragically Die Young than if he had lived to actually do his concerts. The rehearsal footage that was released after he died struck me as being banal in the extreme, and based on what we've now learned about his health and his lifestyle it sure doesn't sound like he had the strength or the stamina to give his fans their money's worth for 50 shows. Was he really up to it? Could he really deliver the magic again? Obviously, we'll never know but one thing's for sure. He'll always be famous.