Michael, we hardly knew ye. The only facet of your complex personality you wanted us to know, the brilliant showman, conflicted with the other side we glimpsed occasionally -- the vulnerable but self-deluding, self-destructive man. Like many of your longtime fans, I held mixed feelings about you, especially when you seemed to court the attention of the same tabloid press that was often unfair to you.
It wasn't that you were strange, although you often seemed to intentionally bolster that perception. You posed for photographs sleeping in a hyperbaric chamber. You gave naive, careless answers to interview questions. Twice, you dashed out of the hospital with a newborn child -- seemingly more concerned with your privacy than their safety. Some of us perceived this kind of behavior as your rebellious answer (and a sometimes genius-like manipulation of) the press. After all, it did serve to get you talked up when your fan base was less than awestruck with your musical offerings.
It wasn't even that you continually changed your appearance. Other celebrities (and we lesser mortals) do that all the time, often without the valid reasons you had -- a devastating skin condition and a history of emotionally crippling criticism from an abusive father.
For me, the mixed feelings stem from your refusal to avoid even the appearance of wrongdoing, and your refusal to take care of yourself physically. Against the advice of family and friends who truly loved you, you continued to risk the loss of your livelihood, your freedom, and even your children. We knew of your philanthropic efforts -- of your genuine love for children and the rest of humanity. I, for one, don't believe you ever crossed the boundaries of propriety with any child, but why did you give anyone reason to doubt your motives? Why would'nt you keep the visits of sick children to Neverland Ranch completely above-board? You managed to avoid prison, but left yourself forever stained by the worst kind of accusations. As an entertainer, you must've been aware that perception almost always trumps the truth. So now, even the most loyal of your fans outwardly mourn the loss of your immense talent while inwardly questioning your judgment. Even the best of lawyers would struggle to defend you against the bizarre behavior we witnessed: You in Las Vegas, squandering your fortune on a spending spree, dangling your infant son out of a hotel window, taking your children to a public zoo yourself, knowing they'd be mobbed by the paparazzi.
The rotten childhood you survived always shadowed the entertainment genius that emerged, but we've now seen images of the loving, patient father you became in spite of it. Why couldn't you let us see this authentic side of you while you were alive? Like millions of others, I was riveted by the brief but heartrending tribute spoken by your daughter at your memorial service. You gave us so much, but your warped perceptions made you all too vulnerable to the minions willing to give you anything you asked for, even if it meant the destruction of your health. It's tragic that you were unable to give your children the gift of a healthy father. We all know they would've preferred that to the inheritance they'll receive now.
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