Over at Five Crows, Louise Plummer blogs about how sad she feels about the King of Pop's death and I feel the same way. I don't know. There's just something about the passing of an iconic figure--someone we all knew of--that makes us feel our own mortality. Plus, a lot of us watched him grow up--from vibrant little boy to boneless dancer to tragic freak show--all played out before our eyes.
Anyway, our oldest son loved Michael Jackson so much when he was in kindergarten that he used to wear a single batting glove to church. I didn't object. I never object if something amuses me and anyway I have low standards when it comes to grooming, as everyone knows.
I later took our son's love of Michael Jackson and gave it to the young boy character, Sinjian, in AMAZING GRACIE--a book I wrote so long ago it almost feels like it was written by someone else who lived on another planet. But I thought of Phil and Michael and Sinjian this morning with longing for moments past.