Michael Jackson: The BEST to EVER do it. (Official Tribute)

July 16th, 2009 | By Alejandro Ford

Commentator, Alejandro Ford, sets the record straight about the legacy of Michael Jackson.

I don’t give two C(ha)’Mon kicks and a crotch clutch what they say about Michael Joseph Jackson—he was the BEST to EVER do it—and moonwalked through the pearly gates as the most swagger-jacked, criminally-imitated, obsessively-sampled entertainer in the history of beats, rhymes and life.

To THEM, Mike Jack was a pathetic pedophiliac with freakish tendencies and a skeleton-stifled closet, but to his true fans, like myself, he was an incredible performer/singer/songwriter, platinum-hearted philanthropist and transcendent trendsetter who globally branded himself, his music, his movement, like no other major artist we’ve ever seen, or will ever see, during our lifetime.

Even though he was blessed with his wings much too soon (well, at least in my eyes), he left us with a ½ century’s worth of golden memories that started for me in the corner of Peaches on 163^rd St. in Miami where I placed my ashy hands on the only white cassette tape to rumble in my dust-bitten boom box for the next several months.

The coke-white cassette? Mike’s Thriller, which, to me, still reigns as the dopest record of our musically-starved generation (with one of the coolest covers) due to its classic videos (Errrbody loved “Thriller” BUT “Beat It” featured ‘Eddie Torres’ (Michael DeLorenzo) before he was everyone’s favorite Latino detective..who knew?), timeless anthems and chart-topping smashes conceived from its very classics (SWV’s “Right Here (Remix),” Brandy & Monica’s “The Boy is Mine” & Kanye’s “Good Life”).

And for those reasons alone, I’ve always sided with Thriller over the Disco-dipped collection of rug cutters Off the Wall that rocked my cardio beat box toward the end of Mike’s lite-jheri & skinny jeans era well into his brite-er skinded years when he killed ’em in stunna shades & golden shin guards (with adhesive strip-speckled fingers) during his unprecedented Bad campaign (boasting the illest cinematic feature to never be theatrically released (in the states): Michael Jackson: Moonwalker.

Face it, you don’t truly Stan for Mike if you A) haven’t re-watched Moonwalker until the VHS tape crumbled inside the VCR B) never battled imaginary claymated creatures, move-by-move, in the mirror or C) refused to risk your life attempting the “Smooth Criminal” ‘Lean’ because you swore it was fake (when ‘we’ all knew it was REAL. Ha.)

At the time, Moonwalker was untouchable, an instant classic, while serving as a brilliant prelude to the conceptually-flawless Bad album that it promoted with epic music videos of the album’s dopest records. Genius. (I admit it. I didn’t know Mike was asking ‘Annie if she was OK’ (“Smooth Criminal”) until I saw Moonwalker).

With Bad, Mike effortlessly kicked in the door to the ’90s with moto-chained leather biker-boots (with heels), a vicious wet-n-wavy (with an Elvis-style curly-swirl lick) and an edgier, boundary-smashing sound that solidified the colossally-successful Grammy-winning release as the only album to ever feature five #1 singles (with “Man in the Mirror” being one of my All-Time faves, with one the greatest breakdowns ever. See: 3:51 mark).

But, then again, there were a few occasions when Mike had me feelin’ myself (literally, HEEE!)—thinkin’ that I, too, was ‘Bad’ until my mama throat-chopped me back to reality and hid my stereo under her bed. I mean, it was cool though because I knew she actually loved me whenever she gave me a few dollars (from her tithe & offering envelope) to play the Moonwalker arcade game. Whether I leveled-up or lost never mattered, I just wanted to press [Dance] and watch Mike do God’s work on the screen, with me dancing along.  *JerMajesty shrug*

While I loved the Moonwalker arcade game and pledged allegiance to the film, nothing ever touched Captain EO, which, based on my yearly Orlando trip experiences, was thee ONLY reason why anyone went to Disney’s red-headed step child theme park: Epcot Center (yea, with the giant golf ball and world-famous food court. WHACK..yea, I know).

Sadly, Disney shut down the star-studded 3-D experience in ’94 (due to Mike’s legal woes) in favor of Honey, I Shrunk The Audience (O_O), despite Mike’s ever-growing popularity that reached its apex with the Teddy Riley-molded mega-opus Dangerous responsible for the “Remember The Time” workout plan/Black History Month Program Dance routine, globally-beloved “Heal The World” and greatest race relations anthem, maybe ever “Black Or white.”

In addition to pushing global issues to the forefront (and making Free Willy relevant), Dangerous also marked the beginning of the King of Pop’s ending, and proved to be his last monumentally-successful album before his heart-crushing fall from grace at the hands of the bloodthirsty media, heartless extortionists and his own greed-stricken family.

However, as a serious Michael Jackson fan, I refuse to remember the incomparable icon for his eccentricities and would rather celebrate the life of a human being who contributed more to the foreign community, his own people and recording industry than any other entertainer in history. And with that said, I’d like to pay my final respects to the King Michael Joseph Jackson—the BEST to EVER do it—and I highly recommend you do the same, while allowing his soul to rest in peace.

R.I.P. M.J. (August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009)

“I will never stop helping and loving people the way Jesus said to. He said, ‘Continue to love. Always love. Bring on the children. Imitate the children. Not childish, but child-like.” — Michael Jackson.