Friends of ours came to visit us from Munich. They had never been to Los Angeles before so we decided to take them for a tour of Hollywood Boulevard and Grauman's Chinese Theater. All around you were a cacophony of different languages. The place was packed with tourists from all over the world.
After looking at foot and hand prints of movie stars dating back to when the the theater was opened in 1927, you felt the flow of humanity and its history (albeit a short one).
O and I pushed through the crowd, when suddenly, traffic stopped to a halt and no one was able to move. Luckily I was able to slip through a gap and found everyone staring down and taking photgraphs of the ground. Flowers, photos, cards, long letters encircled the sidewalk star of singer, Michael Jackson. Nearby, a young singer hoping for a break, sings Michael Jackson's greatest hits. I was struck by the desire for a person remembered. Combine it with sheer curiosity.
Michael was a tragic figure- a result of our collective desire for a 'star'. He gave it to us in exchange for our disguised consumer 'love' for him. I think Michael wanted more than what the public could give him while he was alive.This symbiotic relationship was always tentative- based on the mood of either side. It was fragile at best.
Now that Michael's gone, I find myself listening more often to his music. Reminiscing my youth. Perhaps it's why there's so much publicity over him. He was the symbol of our childhood- past, present and future.
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