guilty pleasure monday, dubbed today g. p. m. in honor of my next honoree, michael jackson, and his early 80’s hit p. y. t.
oh please. if you’re over the age of about 39, you danced to this at least 10 times if you had a life back in the day. you know you did. and i did, too, at all those stupid fraternity parties i went to when i was a freshman who didn’t know that there was intelligent life out there beyond campus. yep, those delightful parties where it was 1000 degrees inside a small place where everyone was dancing? where stupid people like me drank the jim jones punch because we thought it was the non-alcoholic alternative?
and p.y.t. was one of the songs i remember from that time. of course, it has a more positive memory — a memory of times when we drove in my friend debbie’s car (she was the only one of my frosh friends i could recall who had a car) over the rickenbacker over to crandon park, where we would sit on the beach — and study! yes, i was that much of a dork to actually study on the beach at key biscayne. and better still — my friends studied, too!
yes: develop skin cancer AND develop your mind, all at the same time. it’s genius.
but i liked the song, enough to let my aforementioned friend debbie convince me to spend $30 dollars — 30 WHOLE dollars — to see michael and his brothers perform at the orange bowl. back then, $30 for a ticket was highway robbery. and i did it. what do i remember about that show? mostly a young african american lady screaming in my ear for what seemed like forever: MICHAEL, MICHAEL, I LOVE YOU, MICHAEL!
sometimes, i hear it in my dreams.
and considering the show they put on that day, it’s actually better that i remember her.
michael went downhill for me after that — i don’t think i really ever recovered much past ben, anyway — but man, i must admit — i didn’t own thriller — i am not one of the gazillion people who bought it and made it the best-selling album ever — but i sure wanted to borrow it and tape it.
which i never actually did, now that i think of it…