Back in the mid-80's around the time when Thriller was cool, our cat Samantha had kittens. Of course my sister, Jaime, and I named all six. Our favorite was a fluffy little orange kitty, and we named him Michael Jackson. We were probably about 5 and 7 years old and loved watching MTV with our babysitter. We mastered the moon walk and made up dance routines to all our favorite songs, and if you get me really drunk and play Madonna's Like a Virgin or Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar on Me, I might show you some of our moves.
Mom allowed us to keep Michael Jackson as we could never bear to part with at least one kitty from a litter (that is the foundation for crazy cat ladies, I know). Sadly, a short time later, he disappeared and we were told that he must have ran away. Skip forward twenty years. We're at a family dinner talking about our long-lost kitty, when my dad says, "oh you mean the kitten that our neighbor Kevin ran over?" That's right folks. Our parents lied to us all these years and Michael Jackson was really dead. I nearly cried.
I am not really going anywhere with this, other than to say that the music of the mid-80's really impacted my childhood for better or more likely for worse. And MJ, I'm sorry you had such a rough life and became a crazy pedophile. But that whole Thriller video was really cool.