Mr. Waldorf Changes His Michael Jackson Tune
Well, I guess you heard. We lost Michael Jackson this week.
I almost hesitate to mention it here, because — if you'll pardon a bad pun — after a day and a half, you're probably Michael Jackson-ed to death. But the thoughts I want to share are more about media and "Human Nature" than the King of Pop himself.
I first learned of the soon-to-be all-consuming news on TV. Watching cable news often turns me into Mr. Waldorf from The Muppet Show. Have you ever noticed that the kind of "Breaking News" that gets everyone's attention is almost always celebrity-related? This totally brings out my inner balcony critic.
Fortunately, Mr. Rufus J. So-and-So doesn't engage me when I start to get all revved up. See, he makes it his responsibility to know what's going on in the world, and seeks information from multiple sources. I really dig that about him. He doesn't want to play Statler to my rant on the topic of media, so he usually just politely tells me not to get my ass up over my shoulders when I start. I appreciate that too.
So the other day when I heard CNN announce that they were waiting for TMZ to confirm the death of Michael Jackson, I instinctively tuned it out as white noise. Went to the computer instead. I was immediately notified by Yahoo homepage headlines that The King of Pop was in peril. I went to Facebook, which was buzzing with the breaking news. Every single update or post in my "news" mini-feed referenced him. I realize that this is an observation from inside a bubble, but I don't think I even witnessed that kind of cultural synchronization on election day.
Those early to the party were practically taking bets on whether or not he was gone. Post official announcement posts added genuine pathos to the discussion.
It was almost textbook the way the comments within an hour reflected the seven stages of grief:
I was still in San Diego at the time, packing for a 327-mile journey home sans iPod. The soundtrack on the way to my Dad's included a variety of music from various radio stations along the way. The soundtrack on the return trip turned out to be wall-to-wall "Off The Wall" and other Michael Jackson tunes. Even the Mexican station was playing "Thriller."
Traffic is pretty much inevitable, and I spent my share of time crawling along the freeway with the other poor commuting slobs. That's when I noticed something curious. In a world where "mass media" is going the way of the dinosaur, and we're increasingly separating ourselves into micro-audiences with seemingly unlimited choices, people in the cars to the right and left of me were listening to the same station. There we were, three cars at a complete stop on the freeway in a row, bobbing our heads and snapping our fingers. We were following the instruction of Michael Jackson:
On and Na Na Na On like that. I thought about starting the arm wave...
But I was in the center lane, so that would have been weird. I would never want to leave one of my new friends hanging by picking a single side to pass the wave to. So I shared my "mass-media" experience via cell phone with the "new media" micro-demographic that is my Facebook friend list instead. [editor's note: TheWordWire DOES NOT advocate texting while driving. I was at a complete stop, and even still should be ashamed.]
Two thumbs up.
A few people liked my status. But I bet that everyone, everywhere could somehow relate.
The people I saw in the grocery store last night could. A kid, no more han ten, was drawing a crowd. Standing in the front of the check-out waiting for his mother, he gave us all a show. He was spinning and moonwalking and grabbing his crotch. Grandmothers clapped and "wooed." No one rolled their eyes and kept walking by — young, old, black, white and brown, the seemingly awe-inspired crowd just continued to grow.
That's when my inner Mr. Waldorf changed his cranky opinion about the Michael Jackson story. Not about the man or his death; about its value as news. The mere fact that we're so collectively interested makes it interesting. It's like we need something to make us feel connected to each other. And I guess If that something makes us dance and sing, then we must just be all the more helpless to our "Human Nature."
I almost hesitate to mention it here, because — if you'll pardon a bad pun — after a day and a half, you're probably Michael Jackson-ed to death. But the thoughts I want to share are more about media and "Human Nature" than the King of Pop himself.
I first learned of the soon-to-be all-consuming news on TV. Watching cable news often turns me into Mr. Waldorf from The Muppet Show. Have you ever noticed that the kind of "Breaking News" that gets everyone's attention is almost always celebrity-related? This totally brings out my inner balcony critic.
Fortunately, Mr. Rufus J. So-and-So doesn't engage me when I start to get all revved up. See, he makes it his responsibility to know what's going on in the world, and seeks information from multiple sources. I really dig that about him. He doesn't want to play Statler to my rant on the topic of media, so he usually just politely tells me not to get my ass up over my shoulders when I start. I appreciate that too.
 | |
"TMZ? TMZ!!? Why is network news taking its lead from a Hollywood gossip rag? Are they trying to TMZ...zzz...zzz...zzz...zzz... us all to sleep?" — TheWordWire "Oh, don't get your ass up over your shoulders." — Mr. Rufus J. So-and-So | |
| Photo Credit: Muppet Wiki From The Muppet Show — Mr. Waldorf (left) and Statler (right) |
So the other day when I heard CNN announce that they were waiting for TMZ to confirm the death of Michael Jackson, I instinctively tuned it out as white noise. Went to the computer instead. I was immediately notified by Yahoo homepage headlines that The King of Pop was in peril. I went to Facebook, which was buzzing with the breaking news. Every single update or post in my "news" mini-feed referenced him. I realize that this is an observation from inside a bubble, but I don't think I even witnessed that kind of cultural synchronization on election day.
Those early to the party were practically taking bets on whether or not he was gone. Post official announcement posts added genuine pathos to the discussion.
It was almost textbook the way the comments within an hour reflected the seven stages of grief:
1. SHOCK & DENIAL- "Farrah and Michael in the SAME DAY??" "I can't believe it!" 2. PAIN & GUILT- "I'm having a beer for Wacko Jacko — RIP"
4. "DEPRESSION", REFLECTION, LONELINESS- 5. THE UPWARD TURN-
7. ACCEPTANCE & HOPE- "A revival of MJ 80's music means a revival of Weird Al Yankovick. Yay!" |
I was still in San Diego at the time, packing for a 327-mile journey home sans iPod. The soundtrack on the way to my Dad's included a variety of music from various radio stations along the way. The soundtrack on the return trip turned out to be wall-to-wall "Off The Wall" and other Michael Jackson tunes. Even the Mexican station was playing "Thriller."
Traffic is pretty much inevitable, and I spent my share of time crawling along the freeway with the other poor commuting slobs. That's when I noticed something curious. In a world where "mass media" is going the way of the dinosaur, and we're increasingly separating ourselves into micro-audiences with seemingly unlimited choices, people in the cars to the right and left of me were listening to the same station. There we were, three cars at a complete stop on the freeway in a row, bobbing our heads and snapping our fingers. We were following the instruction of Michael Jackson:
Pretty Young Things, Repeat After Me... [Michael] I Said Na Na Na [P.Y.T.'S] Na Na Na [Michael] Na Na Na Na [P.Y.T.'S] Na Na Na Na [Michael] Na Na Na [P.Y.T.'S] Na Na Na [Michael] I Said Na Na Na Na Na [P.Y.T.'S] Na Na Na Na Na |
On and Na Na Na On like that. I thought about starting the arm wave...
But I was in the center lane, so that would have been weird. I would never want to leave one of my new friends hanging by picking a single side to pass the wave to. So I shared my "mass-media" experience via cell phone with the "new media" micro-demographic that is my Facebook friend list instead. [editor's note: TheWordWire DOES NOT advocate texting while driving. I was at a complete stop, and even still should be ashamed.]
Two thumbs up.
A few people liked my status. But I bet that everyone, everywhere could somehow relate.
The people I saw in the grocery store last night could. A kid, no more han ten, was drawing a crowd. Standing in the front of the check-out waiting for his mother, he gave us all a show. He was spinning and moonwalking and grabbing his crotch. Grandmothers clapped and "wooed." No one rolled their eyes and kept walking by — young, old, black, white and brown, the seemingly awe-inspired crowd just continued to grow.
That's when my inner Mr. Waldorf changed his cranky opinion about the Michael Jackson story. Not about the man or his death; about its value as news. The mere fact that we're so collectively interested makes it interesting. It's like we need something to make us feel connected to each other. And I guess If that something makes us dance and sing, then we must just be all the more helpless to our "Human Nature."
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Posted by TheWordWire at 6/27/2009 3:10 PM 
Categories: Slice of Life
Tags: Muppets Stages of Grief Statler CNN Michael Jackson breakdancing Facebook TMZ Mr. Waldorf
Categories: Slice of Life
Tags: Muppets Stages of Grief Statler CNN Michael Jackson breakdancing Facebook TMZ Mr. Waldorf
It has certainly been the buzz in my world. I think we all hear an MJ song and can relate it to what was happening at that time in our lives. He was a very talented artist...and like all really talented artists...a little quirky...okay...a LOT quirky. But I've been singing various MJ songs for two days now...how 'bout you?
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Yes, I think I've heard -- and sung along to -- every song he ever recorded in the last two days. Good thing I'm not in the market to buy any of his music or memorabilia though. Saw tonight that places that sell CDs can't keep his stuff in stock. Surprise! "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough" I guess. Thanks for your comment!
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Your observations are pitch perfect. I, too, identify with Michael, what with my ongoing quest for adulation and validation. I'm petitioning my neighbors; I'm pretty sure the time is right to change our street to Neverland Lane.
FYI, the Michael Jackson on Mexican radio sounds surprisingly like his gringo brother up North. Sometimes you can't tell the difference.
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It was a proud moment yesterday, when my children were practicing their Thriller moves in front of the 24 hr. michael jackson coverage on TV. The zombies may give them nightmares, but they've both been inspired. The king of pop lives on...
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