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A revelation happened to me over the weekend, choke, no joke. It took nearly eight months but it finally happened. I shed tears for Michael Jackson, in public, at Wal-Mart.


"What, ain't no more to it...." (c) Biggie Smalls ---> The Notorious B.I.G. Okay, maybe I should back-track a bit, chea? I have hinted at this in past postings, but ever since Michael Jackson was on the verge of passing in June, I shut out everybody—friends, family, media outlets, Twitter #Reactions, etc. Everything had a strong sense of fabrication.

From the reality shows to the accusations to the non-stop theories, and the one particular item which set me over the edge—'s daily "RIP MJ" postings on each story. How could such a great contributor to music get post-life recognition, after massive ridicule and mockery from practically every outlet, only to have it all go 160 degrees the other way? Pardon my language, but "Get the (funk) outta here," on my Ghostface Killah tip. I thought and still feel it was bogus and 100 percent set-up, fake, phony. Shucks, even Jadakiss would co-sign my argument.

Regardless, all this time had passed. Even when the talks began about the This Is It film, I swore to never watch it, not so much due to the fact there were the "fakes" out there putting on a sad face for MJ, but rather because I did not want to see MJ in a light which I know will and has become his lasting legacy.

So it's Saturday, in New Jersey, and I find myself wandering around the electronics section in Wal-Mart, nothing special planned at all. But then I look up and see the 47 to 62-inch HD screens with MJ going through his rehearsals from a This Is It segment, and I froze. All this "tough guy" talk I had pounded into my head went flat like soda, zipped out like those early 1990s whoopy cushions, and what formed were watery eyes. To keep things "a hundred," MJ was performing "Earth Song" and the utter beauty of those first few words I heard:

"What about all the things you said we were to gain..."

Ahhh, I choked like Eminem's first-run on 8 Mile. I stood motionless in something you would only call a fraction of "awe" and the unexplainable, practically on the verge of blacking out. Now as I stood, I happened to notice more people coming near me to watch the screens. Just picture it: all these screens in Wal-Mart with MJ performing. Sure, the retailer was just trying to move units and what better way to get people's attention, but the incident was deeper than just a sale. Looking at the people near me, I was overwhelmed. Granted, this "is" New Jersey, so the ethnic make-up is pretty mixed: a white older man, Asian couple, early 30s-looking black man in a wheel chair all around me, attempting to display their 'I'm just looking, thanks' facial expressions. It's almost like MJ's words were being put into motion. It got to the point where I had to back away and move around. But, as I turned my back, I heard:

"What have we done to the world? Look what we've did..."

For some reason, I stopped, turned around and watched a few more minutes with an "understanding" of life.


Seeing the passion MJ had, seeing the "real" impact he had as seen with the folks around me. I honestly cannot explain it but it finally kicked into my head, "Who gives a funk if the sentiments are real or not, YOU know what MJ has done, contributed, accomplished." Cyrus, YOU know, goofy.

(Adds This Is It to Netflix que)