My memories of Michael Jackson

I don't usually get mushy when celebrities die, but it is not often when a celebrity actually had an effect on my life. There are seldom times when I have happy memories connected to a person who I never met.

Now, as I watch msnbc, as I watch the talking heads recount their memories of "Wacko Jacko", I find myself recounting mine.

When I was born it was 1984. About the time that Michael Jackson was on top, and my Aunt Kate wore a single glove to my birth. I've been told this story countless times.

I had three tapes to my name when I was a child. The Beatles' "Magic Mystery Tour", Steve Martin's "Let's Get Small", and Michael Jackson's "Thriller". I would play with my Barbies and listen to "Billy Jean", "Got to be Startin' Somethin'", and "The Girl is Mine".

Then there was Halloween. My mother would dress my brother and I and my family would drive to Custer and go trick or treating. When we were tired and cracky, and full on sugar and chocolate, my father would sit us down and we would all watch "Thriller". My whole family. I would be scared and my grandfather would hug me in his lap.

People say that Michael Jackson was a creepy pedophile, and he may have been, but there was one thing I knew as a child. He knew how to communicate feeling, and he knew how to create memories.

And those are mine.