Michael Jackson
After a long day of work, I passed out at home on the couch while wondering what I should write for a SODA submission. At 2 AM I woke up to the music of Michael Jackson coming from outside. I went down to the streets and saw MJ was blaring from a SUV. Tourists, residents in pajamas, street vendors crawling from under their vending table on the sidewalk where they had gone to sleep, homeless, and the perennials who take over the Manhattan street at night joined in, wildly dancing. Even a snippet of his music is instantly recognizable, and everyone knows a MJ dance move or two. MJ bit and spit out words. Crowd rocked the SUV. Traffic altered itself to let the party be. As I left, a man was running to join in, carrying flowers he had surely plucked from some garden in the neighborhood. Leave it to MJ to inspire, in his life and his death, an instant homage at any moment.
ps: The summer I spent in LA in '95 would have been miserable without MJ's HIStory.
ps: The summer I spent in LA in '95 would have been miserable without MJ's HIStory.
posted by metoo at 11:23 PM
2 Comments:
Have you considered a profession in writing? Not writing papers, I mean. You have clearly proven to yourself and everyone else that you can excel and exceed in a research career. Take up a new challenge and enrich the world further :-)
Thank you. One day I might be able to live up to this inspiration.
I once said I wanted to publish in The New Yorker magazine, and someone clever in the audience quipped, "Cartoons?".
Btw, coincidentally, I just watched, Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters. Now, *he* was a writer.
-- metoo
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