Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Way You Make Me Feel
For once I'm glad to have a song in my head.
Three songs actually; ever since news of Michael Jackson's death the choruses of Rock With You, P.Y.T. and Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough have soundtracked and transformed mundane acts of toothbrushing and peeling hard-boiled eggs, into hip-shaking reveries. I can't get them out and I don't want to. They make me smile. I've rediscovered Michael Jackson with the zeal of a nerd and her favorite sliderule, unearthing old music videos and playing tracks long since abandoned in the corners of my harddrive. From the sounds of it I'm not the only one, with crowds gathering internationally to celebrate his memory.

I thought I'd apply the same mood of celebration to the death of my last grandpa who died just shy of Father's Day. I replayed cozy brunches, his affectionate "Miss Emmys", introductions to pink horseradish and gefilte fish, his adoration of his wife, and unflagging loyalty to the Cleveland Browns. The next time I'm the store hip-shaking to imagined Benny Goodman, I plan on buying a Vernor's in celebration.

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