So, I’m back in Indiana again … only a few days after the King of Pop (who was FROM Indiana) passed away.
You would think that the post-mortem frenzy of the glittered-gloved-one would be even crazier here in his home state, but I can’t really tell … BECAUSE THERE ISN’T REALLY ANYTHING TO SEE!
Besides, it doesn’t really matter. The entire nation is in a frenzy because of his death. While the first few hours gave warranted coverage, the reporting on the subject has now devolved into speculating about how crazy he was, how broke he was, etc., etc. Coming out of the woodwork are loads of reporters who claim they “knew” MJ, and had insight into his persona. Those who are convinced remained so while denouncing MJ as “wacko jacko,” while others defend him until the end (alleged pedophilia and all.)
I hope, when I die, there is no speculation about what type of person I was. I don’t ever want Taj to have to try to defend the memory of his father. (Of course, I’m not famous like Mike, so probably no one other than my family will care anyway.)