Wearing black
I went to dinner at Meaux Bar last night with friends wearing all black. I wasn’t exactly melancholy but I felt like the world had shifted somewhat with the death of Michael Jackson. I grew up with him – we were the same age – and since he was a little Afro haired boy to what he became lately, his music has always moved me and I mean that literally. After Meaux Bar, we went by Nonna Mia for an after dinner cocktail and found friends there so we hung out a little bit.
I had made a CD with some of Michael’s classics – Billie Jean, PYT, I’ll Be There – and after I dropped everyone off and was on my way home, coming down Grand Route St. John, I arrived at the bayou and could see the LaLa already shut down for the night and so I pulled the truck over, cranked up Billie Jean on the stereo and stepped out to dance in the streets in a rapturous tribute to a musician who made music that has long held such a special place in my heart.
Rest in peace – finally – Michael.
And Farrah, Michael’s death did not overshadow yours – he had become a freak, a sideshow unfortunately – but you, you were brave brave brave and gave back to the world with your blogging and frank portrayal of your battle with cancer.