Michael Jackson: A failure … in life

I was never a Michael Jackson fan. Jackson Five fan, assuredly, but didn’t quite get the whole “Michael Jackson” latter-day crazydom schtick.

“Billie Jean” is a great song; haven’t seen many music videos that topped “Thriller.” But Jackson’s death, like his latter life, was a circus just waiting on the arrival of the clown car.

How far have we plunged into Media Hell when up to six television channels at a time were carrying special documentary-type coverage of “Michael is Dead! Day Six!”? Michael Jackson was not a genius at anything in life that truly matters. He was, however, a great singer, an explosive, inventive dancer and one of the best entertainers ever.

What else, pray tell? What else was he or what else did he do to deserve the hero status that came with his death?

In a word, Michael Jackson was a freakoid. He butchered his body for the sake of … (you fill in the blank). He started off life as a black youth with a bright bouquet of talent and, through the miracles of modern chemistry and surgery techniques, turned himself into a hatcheted, white hag. He was an accused pedophile who paid off one family who claimed he had abused their son, and was acquitted by a jury in another case that was reminiscent of the O.J. Simpson verdict.

It doesn’t matter if he’s innocent or guilty. He’s famous!

This is not the substance from which legends and folk heroes are made, folks. This is “Nightmare on Elm Street” reality.

Jackson has not been and never should be a role model. He’s to be pitied, on some small scale, because even with success and wealth, he could not figure out what he should do to find true happiness. His lifestyle was a conglomeration of bizarre behavior, off-the-scale indulgences and inability to face the realities of the “normal” world in which we all must live on some scale.

He was a lost boy who was more than 50 years old. That should be no celebration for that fact. That is cause for pity and profound sorrow.

And now that he’s gone, those people supposedly closest to him are fighting over the pieces of his life like a pack of ravenous wolves.

I don’t know if the Michael Jackson of 2009 deserved better.

But I believe the Michael Jackson who wowed us Baby Boomers with his youthful song-filled blessings in the early days assuredly did.