A few words on MJ.

It was one of those "where-were-you-when" moments. It's still hard to believe. Even typing these words feels surreal somehow, like some protracted publicity stunt that will surely be over any minute, when the world is poised for the ultimate comeback. Michael Jackson is dead. There's no denying that the man lived in his own world, but there's no denying that our world would not be the same without him. A lot of people have expressed confusion at the mass worship that followed his death, relating it to a religious zeal, deeming it inappropriate due to all the alleged scandals and the eccentricity he refused to smother. I would be confused if there wasn't a vast outpouring of emotion and reverence. You could easily say the man was a freak. His face, his actions, all unabashed and mostly unexplained. I don't care about any of that. For me, all of that laughingstock ridicule faded, disintegrated, the instant I heard he had left us. All I care about is what he brought to this world. He did the work he was put here to do. He performed his mission beautifully. Was he mentally ill? Yes. Addicted to painkillers? Probably. An alien from outer space? I sometimes wondered. But none of that matters. Michael Jackson has affected each and every person on this planet, whether they want to admit it or not. His music paved a future for minorities. His risks informed the modern artistic age. You saw him move and you knew, you just knew this was something special. Special isn't even the word for it. The man was magic, a sorcerer, something the world had never seen and never will again.

Last Halloween I participated in the Thrill The World event at the Long Center, whereby 881 Austinites joined forces to break the world record for synchronized dancing. The song was, of course Thriller. Such energy, to be alongside so many others with the same music, the same moves, the same excitement to be part of something really BIG. Old, young, dancers and non-dancers alike, lying there on the concrete in the hotter-than-we-wanted noontime sun, hair teased, pasty makeup running, clothes ripped, zombie'd out and pumped up, the event's organizer counted down on speaker phone from California and we collectively rose from the dead. The air was electric. It was more than a tribute – it was a worldwide event, a perfect salute to the man who started it all. It was the coolest thing I had ever done or been part of, the most moving performance I'd ever given. It was a big deal then, but now, as my friend Stephanie says, "It's monumental." I am beyond grateful for that moment with MJ. It seemed like he was hovering over the crowd that day. It was his spirit in all of us that made it happen.