lesterhead.com

Obligatory MJ Post II

lesterhead — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 14:31:55 +0000

Now that I said the nice stuff, I really need to address some things:

The plastic surgery
The general creepiness
The surgical masks
The children
Bubbles
Bahrain
Lipless Debbie Rowe (ew!)

A former boss and I used to talk about MJ frequently, and always said that the trust would come out, about everything, after he died. And now, I am checking TMZ constantly for said truths. Is the dermatologist the father of the children? What are the children like? What was the arrangement with Debbie Rowe? Who are Blanket’s biological parents? Does he REALLY go by “Blanket?”

Can someone just tell us HOW HE MADE HIS SKIN WHITE???

I don’t care what Al Sharpton says — Michael Jackson was strange. Not that it was his fault necessarily, but he never lived a normal life.

Did his children know how the rest of the world saw him? And if not, will it destroy them to learn? No one should ever have have to be on stage, on live TV, for a loved one’s funeral. I hope he left them enough money to cover therapy.

Protected: On Friday, it was My Turn…

lesterhead — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 03:05:01 +0000

Obligatory MJ Post I

lesterhead — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 14:22:01 +0000

I can’t believe I didn’t write about it earlier. OK, I do, because I’ve been so busy with the stuff mentioned in the secret posts, but man. We lost the most talented man in the world.

Some news talking head made the point that perhaps no one in the world was more famous than Michael Jackson. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who didn’t know who he was. I can’t imagine that kind of fame, or knowing I had that kind of impact.

Michael Jackson IS my childhood, in so many ways. I can’t express how obsessed I was with the Thriller album. When I had chicken pox, my dad got me the Making of Thriller video, and I watched it obsessively all week. I started dance lessons because I couldn’t stop dancing to that record. The voice, the moves, the clothing, the impeccible style.

I was stuck in the car, in traffic, in the Bronx when I heard the news, and I just couldn’t believe it.

(Also, the news completely overshadowed that I MET BILL CLINTON THAT AFTERNOON!)

I Used to Be…

lesterhead — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 14:08:43 +0000

…such a bigger gadget whore! I mean, I still am, but the “old” me, not being guilt tripped when shopping by a certain fiancee or having to spend all extra income on a wedding, would never have kept a cell phone for two whole years. The horror!

I’ve been fighting the temptation of a new iPhone - and actually being practical about it (”Mine still works just fine!”). But ever since I upgraded to the latest software, the email has been touch and go. And I bet two years of iPhone development mean the 3Gs is way awesome. (Remember, I have the ORIGINAL!)

So happy birthday, two days early, to me. After work, I’m off to upgrade.

Protected: Three in One Week

lesterhead — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 16:34:12 +0000

Protected: A Great Use of My Time

lesterhead — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 11:50:28 +0000

Capturing the Euphoria

lesterhead — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 18:30:09 +0000

Recently, Tom Kreider wrote an interesting piece in the Times talking about how near-death experiences are often happy and life-changing in their aftermath, how even when facing extreme adversity, the sheer joy of survival will get us through the day. In the article, he says,

“I don’t know why we take our worst moods so much more seriously than our best ones, crediting depression with more clarity than euphoria. It’s easy now to dismiss that year as nothing more than the same sort of shaky, hysterical high you’d experience after being clipped by a taxi. But you could also try to think of it as a glimpse of grace. It’s like the revelation I had when I was a kid the first time I ever flew in an airplane: when you break through the cloud cover you realize that above the passing squalls and doldrums there is a realm of eternal sunlight, so keen and brilliant you have to squint against it, a vision to hold onto and take back with you when you descend once more beneath the clouds, under the oppressive, petty jurisdiction of the local weather.”

I know it’s kind of bizarre, but I felt this way for months after my mother died. Of course, I cried and sreamed and stamped my feet, but I also had moments of extreme happiness, confidence and freedom. I’m sure it was a lot of things, namely being freed from the burden of her illness that I had no idea was as heavy as it was while I carried it with me for months on end. But there was something else I’ve never quite been able to put my finger on, as though watching my mother die, literally, made me keenly aware of being alive, of knowingly tuning in to breathing, blinking, tasting, walking.

My mother and I had a very close and special relationship. I’m sure some of my comfort in the days after her passing were due to having been able to have some closure before she left this world, and being able to see how many things she had given me, materially and symbolically, that would help me through the rest of my life. But there really was this euphoria that I felt myself being enveloped in so often in those days that I often wish I could recapture. Those days were so raw, but also so free and adventurous. They defined me more than any depression or disappointment. And now I have to work concertedly to recapture that feeling, or even remember that it existed.

Protected: More Than a Coincidence

lesterhead — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 18:11:21 +0000

Protected: Why Don’t You Know the Answers?!

lesterhead — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 04:07:10 +0000

Great Reconnections

lesterhead — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 03:39:17 +0000

Lately, I’ve had wonderful experiences reconnecting with people via online media. First, an old high school friend who found this website and emailed me a few months ago. We’d briefly connected on Friendster (!) years ago, but who uses that anymore? She had a common maiden name and was impossible to find, so I’m glad she was able to track me down once again.

She’s newly(ish) married, and has also dealt with a devastating familial loss, and it has been an amazing comfort to discuss it with her. Not that I am glad that either of us have had to go through what we did, but being able to discuss it frankly with someone else is just a huge relief. The last few months have been strange and emotional, and while I have come a long way in the grieving process, impending milestones have left me feeling a little more raw than I have in quite awhile. Knowing I have some solidarity out there really makes the burden more manageable. I know she is reading this now, so I will ask her a question: What ever happened to Bonnie?? (Look for a post on this topic soon.)

About 10 minutes ago, I received friend request from a high school art teacher - one of my favorite teachers of all! I didn’t take art in high school until senior year - we were forced to choose between art and music, and of course my show choir tendencies won out until 1995 when I had the time to take both. Miss B taught Advertising Design, and I remember us making quirky cereal box designs, drawing, and making pop-up Christmas cards. I later regretted taking photography in the second semester, since I could have continued in her class and I sucked at photography back then (it really did take about 10 years for those lessons to sink in!). I mean, I REALLY did not get it.

It is lovely to be “found” by beloved people from the past.

(I think being able to vent in my protected posts is opening the floodgates for old-style posts, and I like it!)