Was sad to hear the news of Michael Jackson’s death this week. I had a Twitter client running on Thursday and deliberately logged out when I started to see the news filter through. Not interested in participating in vulture like behaviour on the communication channel “du jour”. Makes me sick actually. And yet, here I am, a couple of days later adding more bits and bytes of data to Michael Jackson’s electronic cloud in the sky.

Back in August last year I posted a photo of how Michael Jackson might look at 50. It was originally published in the Daily Mail. I wrote a little about the obsession with fame and how I felt sorry for MJ. Never thought I’d be blogging about his death 10 months later.

For some reason, when I heard that the 9/11 call had been released I expected there to be some mention of his name, but there’s not. Instead the caller said:

“We have a gentleman here that needs help and he’s not breathing yet. He’s not breathing and we’re trying to pump him but he’s not. He’s not.

Operator: OK, how old is he?

Caller: He’s 50 years old, sir.

Operator: 50? OK, he’s not breathing? Not conscious.

Caller: No, he’s not breathing. He’s not conscious sir.”

and then a short time later:

Operator: Oh, OK, we’re on our way there. If your guy is doing CPR and you’re instructed by a doctor, he’s a higher authority than me. And he’s there on scene. Did anybody witness what happened?

Caller: No, just the doctor, sir. The doctor has been the only one there.

The man adored by millions for his music, died in a rented mansion surrounded by hired help. His final heartbeat witnessed by a doctor, possibly administering a cocktail of drugs to ease the mental and physical demons that plagued his life.

He has left a legacy of music to the world that will live on. Hopefully he has gone to a better place where his real life can actually begin.

Rest in peace.

Image owned by Chibart (CC license)