JOURNAL

THE WAY THEY MADE US FEEL
July 8, 2009

If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this
world knowing the same, then everything that happens
in between can be dealt with. –Michael Jackson

God made man stronger but not necessarily more intelligent.
He gave women intuition and femininity.And, used properly,
that combination easily jumbles the brain of any man
I've ever met. –Farrah Fawcett

Quincy Jones, reflecting on Michael Jackson,
wrote for the Los Angeles Times that in the
music industry, every decade has a phenomenon. Michael Jackson was that phenomenon for the ‘80s. “There will be a lot written about what came next in Michael’s life,” Jones wrote, “but for me all of that is just noise. I promise you that in 50, 75, 100 years, what will be remembered is the music.”

And if Michael Jackson is the music business’ phenomenon for the ‘80s, Farrah Fawcett has to be a frontrunner for the acting industry’s equivalent for the ‘70s. Jackson and Fawcett both made a lasting impression on my childhood, as they
did for millions of others.

I remember the first time I saw Michael Jackson doing the moonwalk to “Billie Jean” on a television Motown special back in the early ‘80s. Oh, the hours I spent trying to imitate that backward glide across the floor! I remember down to almost every detail the album covers of Off the Wall (Jackson smiling in a tuxedo against a red-brick wall) and Thriller (Jackson lounging on his side in a white suit and black shirt, illuminated by an ethereal light). I would sit in my basement, where we kept the family stereo, listening to every word of every song as I pored over lyrics. It seems strange to read now that Jackson broke the race barrier by being the first black artist featured on MTV, because I don’t remember at the time thinking, “Wow, there’s a black man on MTV!” I just remember the music, how it always made me want to dance and sing.

And Farrah. While the boys were staring at her iconic swimsuit pin-up poster, my sisters and I were fighting over our Farrah doll, which consisted only of a head and a full mane of hair. (For a time, I tried to mimic that trademark feathered bang flip, but alas, no amount of hairspray would hold the style on my baby-fine hair.) I was surprised to learn, like many others, that Fawcett appeared in only a single season of Charlie’s Angels. She had that kind of effect—a light-up the room, hard-to-forget quality. She reportedly left the show because the producers weren’t allowing her to grow as an actress, another thing I liked about this gutsy woman: she wasn’t afraid to take chances, and she fought hard to be taken seriously. I remember watching parts of The Burning Bed, a TV movie for which she earned the first of three Emmy nominations, and being stunned at her compelling performance. A far cry from Jill Munroe. She posed for Playboy at fifty and used her naked body as a paintbrush for a Playboy video. She had a tumultuous long-term love affair with Ryan O’Neal, exhibited some spacey, incoherent behavior on David Letterman’s show back in the ‘90s, and made a controversial video diary chronicling her battle with cancer. Say and think what you will about the above, but like Quincy Jones wrote about Jackson, all of it becomes just noise. What most people will remember about Fawcett is that big, beautiful smile. (OK, and maybe that wet swimsuit!)

I’ve thought about that Quincy Jones’ remark, how the music, ultimately, is what we will remember of Jackson. Why is that? Why not all the brow-raising scandals? I think one answer can be found in these wise words from Maya Angelou: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Both of these entertainers made us smile, made us hopeful, and made us forget, however briefly, our loneliness and our troubles. And they have made us remember, through their own private-turned-public trials, that none of us are so very different after all.

Yes, they were pop culture icons, yes, they were flawed, yes, there are others who have done bigger and better things, and yes, what about all the silent heroes who die every day whom we never hear about, but Jackson and Fawcett, for those of us old enough to remember, now hold a place in our collective psyches. Though most of us never met them personally, we shared (via the media) in their triumphs and their suffering. They showed us what hard work, determination, and perseverance can achieve. They taught us the importance of self-evolution, that it’s never too late to follow a dream. (A few years ago Fawcett, also a sculptor, had a show at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and The King of Pop had been preparing for a musical comeback at the time of his death.) They marched to the beat of their own drums, and this is the real, enduring music we will remember.

To watch “The Way You Make Me Feel” video,
CLICK HERE!