He was three days younger than me.
Self-absorbed, I suppose, but that’s what came to mind first when I heard of Michael Jackson’s death. He’s indexed in my mind along with Madonna and Prince, who are a few weeks older, in a file labeled “People My Age.”
I was never a huge fan, but as my college friend Joel Achenbach wrote today on his Washington Post blog, “he was part of the soundtrack of our lives for the past 40 years.”
Jackson was of course a deeply troubled soul, but his talent, at least, was admirable. Here’s how I want to remember him:
Requiescat in pace.