Goodbye, Peter Pan!

MANILA, Philippines – Yesterday morning, CNN ran, among other things, an old Jackson 5 clip of I Want You Back.

As Pinoys were preparing to go to work, reporters and news organizations were scrambling to confirm the shocking news that the Michael Jackson had suffered cardiac arrest and collapsed in his rented Los Angeles home — later succumbing at the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center just two miles away.

When we learned the truth, we shuddered at its finality. This was not a hoax. We won’t be having him back. The moonwalk is over. The King of Pop, 50, passed into history at 2:26 p.m. Earlier, Farrah Fawcett had lost her valiant fight against cancer. But there was inevitability in the former Charlie’s Angels star’s fate. Michael’s demise came completely from left field and hit us on the head.

His departure bookends an incredible life of musical genius and performance. That it was sprinkled with controversy and undeniable bizarreness neither dimmed nor marred Michael’s contributions to music and everything associated with it. In fact, in a very real way, his personal difficulties underscored the discomfort of the legendary star with his celebrity.

Outside of his music and public performances, Michael desperately tried to stay out of the limelight. He was improbably yet palpably shy. There were the outrageous masks, veils, sunglasses, and the large umbrellas (which also served to shield him from the sun because of vitiligo). Even his transformation from an eager kid with an afro to a pale-faced, heavily operated on man was probably a cry for help. He wore his hair long — no longer a rich tangle of curls but an almost feminine cut that seemed to ease his attempts to conceal his face from public scrutiny.

But we paid no mind. Peter Pan was never of this world. We wanted him to make music, sing, and dance until he couldn’t anymore. We lost count of the years. He had turned 50 right in front of our eyes and we still saw him moving like Fred Astaire. That high-pitched voice never aged, although we’d see him frail at times. I certainly never expected this. How could a cardiac arrest claim the man who could move like the wind?

Our generation of thirty-somethings went nuts over Michael in the ‘80s. We danced to pretty much the entire Thriller and Off the Wall albums. We showed off our mastery of his songs’ lyrics. We bought vests and gloves and tried our darnedest to imitate the unparalleled movements. With our pubescent voices, we tried to match him note for note. With our teenage feet, we tried to moonwalk. We could only hope to capture even part of his magic that we believed lay in the rhinestone-laden gloves, his impeccable dance moves, or that now historic red jacket.

Before Nirvana’s equally iconic Nevermind, we had Thriller — a true revolutionary album for its race-transcending brilliance and universal acceptance. As observers noted, before Oprah, Tiger Woods and even Barrack Obama, there was Michael. He broke open MTV that was once a “colored”-free bus. And he didn’t only break through; Michael reinvented music video into a true medium — it was certainly his medium. Michael showcased the experiential, spectacular value of MTV via Thriller and everything that came after. Even when his personal cash flow slowed to a trickle, Michael would still lavish money into his music video productions. It was serious business – and he knew his fans expected no less from the King.

That Thriller went on to become, bar none, the biggest-selling album in history was merely an appetizer. We knew Michael was destined for bigger, better things. More importantly, here was a universal icon who knew how to give back. His active involvement in 1985 relief efforts for famine victims in Africa demonstrated this abiding love for humanity. He was responsible, too, for writing (along with Lionel Ritchie) the anthemic We Are the World, which generated awareness and support for the campaign. In 2000, Michael Jackson was listed on the Guinness Book of World Records for supporting the most number of charities — 39.

As the shock sinks in, fingers will inevitably be pointed this way and that. The media will be poring over and analyzing the King of Pop’s final days. This early, people have begun to speculate that drugs may have had something to do with Michael’s demise.

Whatever the findings, whatever the judgment, we will, again, never have him back.

Someone correctly pointed out that Michael was never allowed to be a normal human being. Deprived of a childhood, he rejected adulthood and sought to be in the company of children — perhaps trying to vicariously live something rudely robbed from him, with awful results.

 “He was extraordinarily interesting person,” said Larry King. “We will never see his likes again. It was hard to love him. It was hard not to.”

Goodbye, Peter Pan. Thanks for everything.