Still Dead!

The one year anniversary of Michael Jackson's death was Friday and it was, in keeping with the theme of his life, a little weird. Let me just say that there are a lot of people out there who really need hobbies. Or jobs. It's kind of hard to tell, but I'm guessing that the latter would mostly be the case.

I'm going to start over there at Forest Lawn Cemetery where Jacko is entombed. They have him in some drawer in one of the crypt walls over there. I don't know exactly how it all works, but I do know that it seems like the reason for that sort of interment was to avoid having his location become a constant freak show. This way, it's inside a building and you need some sort of permission or sparkly glove or small child in order to get in.

Now, the media was treating this like it was going to be some sort of big event. And considering there was a substantial article over there at the still going strong LA Times (nice job, guys!), I was under the impression that there would be some hooplah. Yeah, not so much. According to the article, "About 30 fans lined up early Friday morning outside Forest Lawn cemetery in Glendale to visit Michael Jackson's grave site on the one-year anniversary of his death." Thirty? And what purpose were they serving by lining up early? It's not like he's going anywhere. How early? Why, 3am, of course! If you are lining up at three in the morning so that you can wait until eight in the morning before you can get into a cemetery and not see someone that you never met (and now never will), you need to check yourself. Seriously. You people know that there aren't iPhones in there, right?

After reading the article in the LA Times I was really wanting to know one thing: What were those people expecting to happen? They seemed to be surprised and not all that impressed with the nothing that was made available to them. "After the gates opened, fans were granted limited access at the mausoleum where Jackson is buried...As they passed, they were permitted to hand flowers and cards to cemetery personnel. Once they passed that point, they were asked to move along. Some said they were disappointed at the level of access." Did anyone tell them that he was still dead?

I don't think that they did. One crazy person fan, had asked an attendant, "This is it?" (Probably no pun intended there.) "This is terrible." I'm failing to understand what it is that's so terrible for this woman. The woman said "...she has traveled to the cemetery six times from her home in Atlanta." SIX times?! The man has only been dead a year! And I think that he's only been in the mausoleum for 11 months! She's traveled the equivalent of once every other month from clear across the country? For what exactly? I have no clue. "As she walked through the line, she said Jackson was actually on the opposite side of the mausoleum." Well, I guess that the lady who has been there six times in less than a year would probably know. But she expressed her expectations when she said "I was hoping we would get to go in and see Michael." ::: blink ::: ::: blink ::: I don't think he's seeing visitors today. Perhaps come back another time...not that he'll be any less dead.

Another unbalanced individual, a one Irene Childs from the Bay Area, "...said she was unhappy with the security personnel at the cemetery. "They were too pushy. There should have been more viewing time." What exactly was she viewing? It's not like they wheeled his corpse out there for everyone to gawk at. What was she hoping for, exactly? A meet and greet?

But the winner for the individual who could probably benefit the most from a little time on a shrink's couch would be a one 31-year old (and in need of growing up) Tallora Digirolami, who came all the way from freaking Australia because "I couldn't be here last year, so I had to be here this year." Couldn't be there when he died, so you had to be there a year later? You know, if you couldn't have made it this year, you would have had many opportunities to show up on the anniversary of his death, as I anticipate him being dead for quite some time now!

And of course, there were people dressed AS Michael Jackson. Why do people do that? They did it at the memorial service as well. People showed up dressed like Jacko. I've been to a lot of funerals in my time. I've visited a lot of cemeteries on the anniversary of someone's death before as well. I have never attended either function dressed as the deceased. It's never even crossed my mind to do so! It's a little weird if you're asking me. When I go down to check on my Dad's gravesite, I don't don a bolo tie, coke bottle glasses and a wide brimmed hat! Why are people dressed like Jacko?

In Tokyo, a fan appears to have brought a picnic basket to some big wall painting of Jacko and is taking her (I think it's a her) picture in front of it. She's kind of striking that same Jacko pose, but the lime green cover on the picnic basket really detracts from that. There's also the fact that she looks nothing like him, but don't ever expect logic or reality to deter Michael Jackson fanatics.

And in India, a bunch of young fans apparently lit birthday candles around what appears to be some sort of decorative sheet or banner emblazoned with images of Jacko while they all knelt and prayed. Upon closer examination of the photo, I hope that they are praying for some sort of solid flooring, as those candles are just stuck upright directly into the ground.

I still feel just as cheated today as I felt a year ago. Those concerts of his were going to be the gift that kept on giving. I could feel it! I was practically guaranteed to have awesome blog material for months on end. And what did I get? Nothing. Oh, don't get me wrong. The folks showing up at Forest Lawn hoping for a chance to see Jacko are amusing. But they're nothing even close to what those concerts would have been. Not even close.

J's Theater's Fifth Anniversary + Skyping in Class + N/olympics

Somewhere around the middle of last week, this blog reached its FIFTH ANNIVERSARY! It's hard for me to believe that five years have passed since I began writing here, in late February 2005, primarily as an experiment (a blog post every day, for a year), but they have. The posts have dwindled in recent years as I've had more heaped on my plate, but I always treasure the exchanges with readers that have occurred, and appreciate everyone who still is motivated, even occasionally to drop in.

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As I was originally typing this entry, I'm figuratively floating high above a certain midwestern city. I say this because I was able, for the first time, to seamlessly integrate Skype into one of my courses, and it worked without a hitch! As part of my "Situation of Writing" class, I thought it would be nice to have the course's current students speak with a fairly recent university graduate who's working in publishing, and one of them, poet, fiction writer and critic Jeannie Vanasco, graciously agreed to do so.  An assistant editor at Lapham's Quarterly, and and formerly worked for TriQuarterly, The Poetry Foundation, and the Paris Review, Jeannie also took this course when she was an undergraduate major (in both the poetry and fiction tracks), and I thought she might have some great and useful insights to offer the students.  She did. The hurdle I foresaw, however, was the technology; while I regularly incorporate a host of electronic and online technological components into my courses--from using Blackboard for discussion groups, as a library, and as a posting site, to subject-specific blogs in the past, to Twitter now--and while I have used PowerPoint slides and still images, and screened streaming films (we'll be watching Martin Ritt's great film about the blacklist period, The Front, starring Woody Allen, next week), and last spring even utilized lots of YouTube clips, this was the first time I'd tried Skype.  It worked perfectly. We were able to see Jeannie clearly and without any onscreen pixillation and few sync issues.  She also was able to hear most of the questions the students asked without a problem and her voice came through without distortion.  This has me very excited about using this for future classes, including one next quarter. I know it's old hat to some, but I felt like this was a huge step and am still very cheered by it.

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The 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver are now over, and, perhaps for the first time that I can recall, I didn't watch a complete broadcast of any events after the opening night stadium entry of the athletes; I may have caught a few snippets when changing the channels or clips on the news, but unlike in prior years, I didn't sit through hours of speedskating, bobsledding, the alpine skiing events, an ice hockey match, or any figure skating. When I noticed people tweeting about Johnny Weir's fanciful costumes, I had to look online because I'd missed the performance in real time.  I note my not-watching not to feel superior or register my alienation, though perhaps a bit of the latter is part of the mix, but just to point out how much I think my own interests and patience have changed. The narcissistic, jingoistic, and at times saccharine human-interest coverage of NBC's commentators, coupled with the tape delays for maximum advertising impact, were bad enough, but it also seemed to be the case that, despite the horrific death of Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili, the Olympic Committee and games organizers were more interested in getting on with things than seriously and realistically addressing the problems with that venue and others (such as some of the alpine hills, where a dangerous bump at the bottom of the downhill course initially led to devastating crashes among the women's elite skiers).  Perhaps this was just my perception, and I realize a lot of money was riding on these games happening and not being delayed or postponed at all, a death or two or none. And I'm aware that any participating in lugeing or alpine skiing or any other similar sport realizes the perils involved.  I also realize that NBC, having paid billions, has the right to feature the games however they want, and if it's Bob Costas mocking countries' outfits or freestyling with mind-numbing digressions, so be it. Nevertheless,  Kumaritashvili's death and the daily athlete-and-medal hype, which extended into newspaper accounts, left bad tastes that I could not get past. (Yes, the US won the most medals, and Russia's poor showing has sent President Dmitri Medvedev into a tizzy; Canada, however, led in golds, a nice home victory.) I debated whether I should watch yesterday's Canada vs. US ice hockey final, and decided not to, only to learn that it was a thriller. But I don't feel I missed anything, even if the US had won. In 2 years the summer games will be in Rio de Janeiro and in 4 years time there'll be another Winter Games, in Sochi, Russia, and all of the hoopla that beset Vancouver will be forgotten, though, I hope, not Kumaritashvili and his very sad, preventable death.