We Are The World

I only watched snippets of The Funeral yesterday. It was quite a spectacle and quite moving – especially, I think, for those of us that have so much of Michael Jackson’s music on the Soundtrack of our Formative Years. Friends that I thought would never in a million years watch Michael Jackson’s funeral, watched it and actually admitted to crying. Which, I admit, I did too. Michael Jackson is dead. Weird.

I remember the day Elvis died. The mother of my friend Andrea Zappa spent the whole day in her slip, with the curtains drawn, sobbing, drunk on the couch. I was too young to really get what had happened but was absolutely fascinated by the drama.

Someone sent me this YouTube link to the original We Are The World video that was parodied so well on Saturday Night Live. And as I watched it I was transported back to high school. Remember that day after school when MTV played this for the first time? I bawled like a baby. If memory serves it was not too soon after the death of my father so I was already a big raw emotional nerve ending – but I was always a big boob anyway, crying at the end of nearly every episode of Little House on the Prairie.

It is cool to see this again and all the familiar faces from…


…Okay, so before I could finish writing this post I got an email from a friend with very bizarre WTF quotes from Al Sharpton and MJ’s plastic surgeon and dermatologists.

STOP POST. I have remembered me.

How long before one can gently mock the dead without being beheaded by blog readers? Tell me Internetland, cause I got some stuff to say.