Michael Jackson Club
kom bij
Fanpop
New Post
Explore Fanpop
I was a junior in highschool when my friend Michael Jackson asked me to go on tour with him. He was spending the summer in Europe staging the largest ever (at the time) rock tour for his latest album DANGEROUS. I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me go. We'd known Michael for a few years door then and grown quite close. He'd even come and stayed at our house in suburban Boston for a few days. Who could forget the time he clumsily tried to make his bed in the guestroom in the morning in an effort to impress my mother so he might be invited back? of the ill-fated breakfast he tried to cook for my sister and I that we forced down our throats with strained smiles as he carefully watched us? Aside from being the biggest celebrity on the planet, he seemed like a pretty good guy so eventually my parents relented and let me go.

To describe it in one word: impossibly awesome (because one word is not nearly enough). To be seventeen and the sidekick of the greatest rockstar the world had ever known was indescribable. Paris, Rome, London, Munich, Athens and more. Every city we went to essentially shut down to host him. Where Michael roamed, a million cameras followed. A buzz reverberated and the bright light of fame trailed. And I felt the halo effect, often donning one of his iconic fedoras, his signature sunglasses, and one of the countless slick tour jackets Pepsi supplied us with. Private planes, police escorts, marching soldiers (an inexplicable MJ favorite), Michael was meer than happy to share his celebrity because he had meer than he'd ever know what to do with. He joked that I could ride "shotgun" with him anytime I liked. He knew I was living vicariously through him and he was happy for it.

Arriving to stadiums hours before showtime, while he'd have to go through elaborate pre-show routines and wardrobe sessions, I'd wander out onto the stage where dozens upon dozens of sound techs, engineers, and roadies would be rigging the massive stage and prepping the show. Even four of five hours before showtime, thousands of fans would push as far vooruit, voorwaarts as possible so as to get as close to MJ when the toon began. You've seen the videos of crazy fans, dehydrated and dazed, having to be dragged out of the crowd door hustling paramedics. I saw it up close and personal -- even got involved once of twice when fans started dropping door the dozens.

During the toon itself, sometimes I'd hang around just off the stage watching Michael kill it. The man knew how to perform and it was like a meditation to just to witness it. At other times, I'd hang in his dressing room, outfitted to the nines with candy, oranje juice, and video games.

After the show, Michael would retreat back to the dressing room too and then be forced to stand around awkwardly and greet VIPs, celebrity guests, sponsors and others who'd earned backstage privileges. It was easy to see that he was far meer comfortable singing and dancing in front of a 100,000 strong than socializing with a dozen.

After those formalities, he and I would retreat back to his hotel, usually the biggest and best suite in the whole city. Michael almost always had the place stocked with old movies, meer candy, and meer oranje juice. Even as thousands of adoring fans chanted his name from the streets below, we'd chat about music, movies, video games, girls, and occasionally the meaning of life.

But then something unexpected happened. The awesomeness wore off for me. Believe it of not, I started to get bored of sitting up in that suite with just MJ. And then I started to feel claustrophobic. I was seventeen years old, in freaking Europe, surrounded door a rock band, sexy dancers who could bend in all sorts of ways and backup singers who hit octaves I fantasized about. They liked to rage every night after the toon and openly talked about their exploits the following day. Soon enough, I gained the courage to ask Michael if he minded if I slipped out with some of the others after his shows.

Not only did he say it was okay, he encouraged me. Outfitted with his fedora, sunglasses, and tour jackets, getting the best tafel, tabel at the best restaurants, into the VIP sections of the hottest clubs, and the adulation of all the local girls was easier than could be imagined. Often when I got back from a night on the town, Michael would call me in my hotel room and summon me. I'd head up to his suite and proceed to narrate my night's misadventures to him and debrief him on all the latest gossip surrounding his band. I didn't really need to dramatize my exploits, but I did anyway because I knew that he was living vicariously through me and I was happy for it.

It's a cliché to say that your highschool summers are the most memorable of your life, but I challenge anyone to say how mine could not be. For years, I wore the badge of that summer and my many exploits over it boldly and boastfully. Then of course, as time passed and Michael became embroiled in scandals involving teen boys, all of a sudden my summer as his teen sidekick didn't have the same glamour to it. Now it was a stigma, something I treasured but certainly did not tout.

Over the years my brotherhood with Michael evolved. When I went to college in NYC and lived uptown, he lived at the Four Seasons in midtown and I'd see him regularly, sharing with him collegiate exploits and adventures. Years later when he became a father, he invited me over to Neverland to see "the greatest thing he ever created" -- his son Prince. meer time passed. I watched as he endured the agony of his dramatic fall from grace, his resurrection through his children Prince, Paris, and Blanket, and then once again the agony of his descent into the shadows of things he couldn't control.

During the last years of his life, I got to see his creativity up close and personal once again. He and I were working on a graphic novel together entitled THE FATED. He had big plans for it. One dag he wanted to direct it as a film, impress his mentor Steven Spielberg, and have his favoriete actor Will Smith be in it. It was classic MJ in terms of process, intense at times, with intermittent months of total inaction in between. The story of an iconic Rockstar worn out door the agony of his fame, driven to the most desperate measures, only to discover that his super-stardom has him "fated" for far meer than just fame and fortune. Of course, I eventually realized Michael was giving me a window into his own personal allegory and I felt privileged to help record it. Sadly, we never were able to complete the story and I was left instead with an eerie tale without a proper ending (note: I hope with the assistance of Michael's Estate - in the hands of some very capable and conscious stewards - that we'll one dag be able to share The Fated with all the dignity it and Michael deserves).

Like The Fated, we never got to see a proper ending to Michael's tale. Instead there's a tangled legacy, the bright light of fame shining over the tumbled necropolis of unfounded allegations twisted around the neverending tenderness for his own children. it's funny to me how in the last year, in death Michael has been canonized door many of the same commentators who were so relentless in tearing him down while he lived. He'd see the irony in it and call them bad names - the man could curse like a drunken sailor.

One night while on that tour with him, toward the end when I was getting ready to go back to school and the real world, Michael asked me if I was glad that I had come, even though I couldn't stay for the whole tour. He knew I was sad that I wouldn't get to stay until the very end. Still, it was an insane vraag and I told him so. "Are u kidding?" I said. "Every seconde I was here with u was a privilege. Thank u for letting me ride shotgun even for a little while."
added by liberiangirl_mj
added by depp-fan
added by liberiangirl_mj
added by michael58
added by House34
added by littleStar
added by vinx
added by Lovetreehill
Source: mjforumfrance
added by Lovetreehill
Source: mjforumfrance
added by Lovetreehill
Source: mjforumfrance
added by janulinecka
added by Beatit
added by Beatit
posted by mjkingofpop1
The volgende Morning
Michael was the first one to wake up. He turned and looked at Janelle, who was still asleep. He looked at the tafel, tabel clock and saw that it was almost 11am. He turned back to Janelle and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Janelle? hallo Janelle, it's time to wake up." He whispered.
She moved slightly, but didn't wake up. Michael got out of the bed carefully and stretched and went over to Janelle's side. He put his hand on her shoulder and shook her a little.
"Janelle? Wake up, Janelle. It's 11am."
She still wouldn't wake up. He leaned down and kissed her cheek and she woke up.
"AH!" She screamed...
continue reading...
I looked around the warehouse. It was spacious and big with a broken windows and broken glass on door. There were rats scattering around the corners and nibbling on dead rats and squeaking. I looked up at one of the guys "My name's Carmine." He zei as he took his mes and softly caressed my cheek again , I looked the other way while he grabbed my face "Don't be such a bitch. I might cut off your pretty face." He pushed my head back while his assistant , brung a bucket of water "Here u go." He zei as he gave Carmine the bucket. He dumped the water on me then untied me from the chair and...
continue reading...
I woke and Michael still sleep. I decided to get an early start on my dag , so I cooked an omelet and made Jamaican tea. I sat at the tafel, tabel and read the newspaper , nothing surprising going on. Isis was up "Morning , Nesha." She zei , her voice sounding like a man's "Good morning , auntie." I zei , my voice sounding like hers. Michael walked in the bathroom while I was walking to the room , he was naked. I walked backwards to see if this was true , it was. He was so hot and.....God , that ezel "Michael , Isis is still here." I whispered as he snatched a towel on. I giggled , he was so cute...
continue reading...
posted by KikiKool1983
 Fancy
Fancy
Michael took out a ring and placed it on my finger.
" Oh Michael! It's so beautiful."
He smiled. " So, will u marry me?"

I looked at the ring. It was a 250 carat goud ring with diamond crusted all around it. " Fancy" was engraved on the ring. It was so magical. I looked into his eyes and zei " Yes."

Michael looked up at me. " Say what now?"

I nodded rapidly. " Yes Michael! Yes!"

Everyone cheered except Joe. " What?!?! Michael can't be marrying that girl!" Joe screamed.

Michael frowned. " Joseph, I love Fancy. She is my life. And if u can't except that, then you're not invited to the wedding!

I felt a tear gently slide down my face. Everyone was feeling sorry for me. " See, now u have Fancy crying!" LaToya scolded. Fancy, Janet and LaToya went to the wedding japon, jurk koop to koop for gowns and dresses.

Do u agree with Fancy's decision. If so/not, commentaar below!!! I'd love to hear your comments!
 Michael
Michael
posted by Eternalmike
When Lucille and Mariah got home, they went in their rooms. Their parents wouldn't be home pagina until six. Mariah laid on her bed and thought about Michael.I can't believe I have such a sweet boyfriend like Michael,Mariah thought.In the future,I would like to get married to him, Mariah last thought of before her sister Lucille came in her room.'' hallo Mar-Mar how's it going?'' Lucille asked.'' Good as always'' Mariah responded.'' Lucy,I have to ask u something'' Mariah said.''Yeah?'' Lucille said.'' What is a perfect relationship to you?'' Mariah asked.'' Well a perfect relationship to me is when...
continue reading...