…for Michael Jackson. MJ was the coolest cool that ever cooled. We all watched the Moonwalk and busted our asses to learn to do it. The sparkly glove? Best accessory ever, except possibly, the sequined socks. Those *were pretty cool. Everyone wanted jackets with a fafillion zippers. And little girls everywhere realized that race didn’t matter when it came to a boyfriend ’cause MJ was freakin’ cute. And we all knew that Paul McCartney didn’t stand a chance with “the girl” if MJ was in the running. Seriously, people, the “Thriller” album and accompanying (industry changing!!) videos were a huge part of my childhood. I was a PYT and proud, damnit.

Now? I own HIStory, but I don’t admit it publicly. (Well, ’til just now, I guess.) I still Moonwalk with my kids. And I can still sing “Billie Jean” (including the “hee hee”s) without needing to hear the music. But I no longer love MJ…now he’s just a freak. (No offense to freaks.) A sick, sad late-night talk show joke. And the world lost something, my friends. Really.