Essential Baby blogger Kylie Orr
Unless you've been hibernating in your wine cellar, you'd know about the recent death of Michael Jackson.
Amidst all the media coverage, crying fans, tributes, and criticisms of a sordid life, I've been most astounded by Joe Jackson's response to his son's death. In fact, I've been horrified.
Joe Jackson has a face I'd like to slap. He seems to have a permanent smug look like he is the master who created the one and only King. Even in his death, Michael could not escape the greedy clutches of his father.
One blogger described Joe Jackson as "depreciating an asset rather than mourning a son". At the BET awards, Joe Jackson was asked how he was doing following his son's death and his response was: "It has been really tough. Remember, we just lost the biggest star in the world."
Sorry, Joe, did you mean your son? Or did you mean to say, it's really sad your son died but a great way to replenish your bank account now you can use his death as a great promotion tool?
There is no doubt, Joe Jackson was largely responsible for the initial success of the Jackson Five. There has been much debate about at what cost the incredible fame and money had on a child who was thrust into the limelight at the tender age of eight by an overbearing, controlling father. The brutal disciplinarian Joe is depicted to be who suspended his children's right to a childhood in lieu of their revenue potential is nauseating. As far as return for investment goes, Michael was a great venture for Joe Jackson.
As we all know, Michael Jackson went on to be the most successful of the Jackson children, well and truly establishing his name and showing his unrivaled talent, dominating the music industry for many years. And making a bucket load of money.
Michael Jackson was solely responsible for me ripping up the dance floor in my younger days. It was nothing for me to Blame it on the Sunshine, light up to Billie Jean, or belt out Can You Feel It at the top of my lungs. The King of Pop's music had an extraordinary effect on my body. When I heard those familiar beats, the uninhibited shrieks, the Michael Jackson-esque nah-nah-nahs every fibre of my being had to move. It was like I was possessed. I never managed to master the groin grab or the moonwalk - looked more like I was trying to scratch an awkward itch whilst wiping dog-poo off my shoes but hey, I was in the space.
Rather than the pale, freckly weed of a girl, I became a soulful, rhythmic, black dancer. In my mind at least. Unfortunately the translation to the dancefloor was more comedy than skill. Michael's music was such a part of my life, that when he died, a couple of friends called to ask if I was ok, because I was the first person they thought of!
Obviously, I didn't know him personally and I mourn the music, and the good times that I associate with his songs, rather than the man-boy himself. To watch Michael go from that gorgeous, eternally-smiling cherub of a child to a man who slowly disintegrated into a pale, wafer-thin eccentric was disturbing. His supposed skin discolouration said to be a medical condition, was to me, metaphoric of a distancing from his past. A severing of his heritage that linked him to a tyrannical and abusive father.
Michael's dubious associations with children have many writing him off as a pedophile who silenced his victims with irrefutable dollar signs. Only they will ever know. His business dealings with women to bear his children, only to whisk them away to Neverland, were nothing short of strange. There is no doubt Michael Jackson, the great King of Pop, died a very odd and sad man. Was he the product of fame and fortune or was his life the outcome of a childhood stolen?
Is this the road that Tiger Woods, Serena and Venus Williams and other child prodigies are headed? Specifically bred for a future in world dominance (through sports in their cases) and wealth.
This dominance of children and fostering of their talents begs the question: when does support and encouragement turn into a vested and unreasonable obsession? Sure, I'd love to live vicariously through my boys. One could be a sports star. Another a famous author. The third? Well, perhaps he could step in when Jamie Durie calls it a day. It's a hard call.
What if one of your children shows such amazing talent in an area and the only way to nurture that is to make your whole life about it? An enthusiastic interest is one thing. Losing sight of the fact it is YOUR CHILD, not a commodity, is another.
I know it is a long bow to draw a comparison between the abusive and opportunistic father that Joe Jackson was portrayed to be, and parents who push their children to succeed in areas they show great promise. Nevertheless, it concerns me that one, good-natured, well-meaning parent could easily lead their child to a similar path of psychological problems and self-destruction if they saw that the time, money and energy invested in their child was perhaps not paying off...
Maybe we should all do a dog-poo-on-the-shoe-walk in Michael's honour and step back and give LaToya her chance to shine - c'mon she's been waiting in the wings for years!
Where do you stand on pushy parents? Do you think Joe Jackson is responsible for Michael's demise? Can you do the moonwalk?! Comment on Kylie's blog here.
Read other Kylie Orr blogs.
