Memorial Day

Today I met with Mordecai for lunch even though I wanted to stay at home and watch the Michael Jackson memorial on TV. But I couldn't find a listing for it on non-cable TV so I just brought my laptop with me. We ate at Little Branch Cafe, which is tucked amongst those insane and seemingly abandoned high-rise condo buildings near Soldier Field and the Museum Campus. That area of the South Loop is so weird.

On the way back to the more normal part of the South Loop, we stopped by the giant sculptures by Magdalena Abakanowicz. They've been around for a while now I think, but I've never seen them up close; they're kind of creepy. I've seen some of her work at Northwestern's art gallery, and I think her work is often about World War II, which means I probably shouldn't be making a face at the sculpture's crotch in my face, but it was right there.

I spent the rest of the day watching MJ's memorial on and off and trying to read Marxist literature on a computer screen. I can't believe Paris Jackson spoke at the memorial at the end; it's bad enough to see young children crying almost hysterically in public because they've lost their legendary father in an untimely fashion, but what's even sadder is that as the day went on, I wondered, "Did Joe Jackson feed her those lines? Was that scripted?" But Aunt Janet was on standby, so I felt a little reassured (BTW, where was Uncle-To-Be-Someday Jermaine Dupri?). I have to say, as inappropriate as this comment may be, I loved how Paris turned around at the end of her goodbye and just bawled into Aunt Janet's plentiful bosom.

In lighter news, my mom made Fourth of July jello. She's been experimenting with all kinds of jello for the past few years. This past weekend, she made this maki-style kind of strawberry jello. The lighter layer was made with marshmallow, so it was a little soft and chewy. Here is my mom demonstrating one possible way of consuming the roly-poly jello. I am reminded of Fruit-By-The-Foot fruit snacks.

Print Is Not Dead

Tonight we went to Andy and Melinda's new place. We ate and talked baseball, and to everybody's amusement, Andy passed out at 10PM. I heard Michael Jackson songs coming from the living room, so we concluded the housewarming party with Michael Jackson videos. I can't believe I had never seen the entire video for "Smooth Criminal" until tonight! Wuuut. Yet another video that I think trumps "Thriller." But if I ever get a dog, I think I'd like to name it "Thriller."

Before we went home, we dropped by a 7-11 for a Hawaiian Punch Slurpee. Before even entering, I saw Fabolous on the cover of a magazine and made a beeline for it. It was XXL's "Hip Hop Soul" issue, and he shares the cover with The-Dream, who is apparently largely responsible for Mariah Carey's upcoming album and lead-off single, "Obsessed." The magazine was a must-buy. Anyway, LOSO LIVES! I had seen signs of a pulse elsewhere; I guess he has an album coming out shortly.

I'd also like to highlight my Kelly Taylor-esque dress, by a designer named Tracy Feith for Target. It has neon-orange stitching and the bubble hem, which I've loved since the late 90's, early 2000's, when I first saw it in Japan in Cutie magazines. I'd have worn it with Doc Martens to keep the 90's vibe going with the jean jacket (Pikachu on collar), but I like wearing Fryes in the summer. I highly recommend floral dresses in the summer. Next up on my summer-wardrobe-wanty list: a good linen blazer.

Bad News

Today Mordecai and I went to apply for a marriage license but left with our tails between our legs. One of us has not been driving or walking around with a driver's license since returning from New York/Pennsylvania. So we will return next week, and hopefully we will prevail.

Mordecai had to go back to work so I went to Chipotle for lunch. I ate an entire vegetarian burrito. On the way back home on the train, I was drifting in and out of sleep. I was totally owned by the burrito. I got back home, gave my tired feet a sea salt bath, and then fell asleep in the living room. I woke up once to move to the bedroom and slept some more. Mordecai apparently called me 10 times to see where I was since I didn't tell him my afternoon plans. So I wake up to Mordecai saying to me, "I called you a bunch of times, like within the past hour, I sent an email too" followed by "Michael Jackson died." I felt even more disgruntled than I normally am after waking up from a nap. I think Mordecai had thought I died with the news of Michael's death.

I saw that my Facebook and Twitter feeds were flooded with reports of Michael in a coma, rumors and then confirmation of his death, comments about Michael's scandalous ways, and lots of "R.I.P. Michael Jackson." I liked former LLA classmate Jhared's comments: "Take Tito! Take Tiiiiito!" and "Honestly...Mike died a long time ago. If you're real with yourself you know what I'm talking about." On the one hand, I was hopeful for at least one more good album and I really really really wanted to see him live. But I also had a feeling that it was all over anyway, that the concert in London was going to be a farewell concert, and possibly a sad one since he probably couldn't sing and dance like he used to.

A few years back, Mordecai and I were watching an MTV "Best Dancer" countdown, and we were sure that Michael would be number 1. Who could be better? But we were apalled to see Michael ranked at number 2. Guess who was number 1: CHRIS BROWN. Yes, CHRIS "WHEN WE GET HOME, I'MMA KILL YOU RIHANNA" BROWN. I mean, we didn't know him as such then, but that countdown was just a disgrace, lies, fallacies, real real messed up. I think of Michael Jackson as possessed when he sings and dances, like his mind is in another world when he performs. And I don't have a "theory" that explains my gut feeling, and I'm not interested in one, but I think that the scandals in his life are almost excusable given his talent. Maybe "excusable" is not the right word; perhaps "irrelevant" is better. To me, his life off stage was just not as interesting as his performances on stage! Maybe I'm not thinking right with the heat and all, but there are lots of people who do shady shit with children and lead tumultuous personal lives. But who could sing and dance and influence people like Michael? NO ONE. Today, Michael Jackson returned to his home planet.

MJ

Apparently it was Michael Jackson's 50th birthday recently. The Harold Washington Library honored the legend with this display. I like how it is a modest tribute--50 facts about Michael Jackson, cut-outs of his classic poses, a list of his songs--hidden by the bathroom on the eighth floor. I'm still amazed at how a person can have such recognizable poses, and how the library could produce equally identifiable cutouts of these stances. I need to work on a distinguishing pose (peace sign in front of cameras can't count) and preparing templates for future generational use.