Where were you when...?

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to be a part of pop culture history. As you all know, (unless you've been in a coma, and even then, I'm sure someone put on the TV for you) Michael Jackson's Memorial Service took place at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, CA and I was one of the lucky few who got to attend. For me, Michael Jackson mania began when I was nine or ten years old. The first poster I ever owned of a celebrity was one of Michael Jackson's as was the first record. I was infatuated with him and his music and I thought he was so dreamy! Throughout my life, Michael Jackson was that constant mega super star that always fascinated and sometimes baffled me. I had many different perceptions about "The King of Pop" and not all of them were good. Today, I finally realized how much my perception of this person was shaped by the media because this was a PERSON. A human being who was loved by real people. His mother, his brothers and sisters, and most of all, his children. Today, I attended a funeral. It was like other funerals I've attended, full of grief and poignant memories and testimonials. Pictures and videos, etc. The only difference from this funeral and that of my grandmother's funeral a month ago, was that this service was witnessed by millions and millions of people. It was almost a circus event and many people capitalized on the death of this man.

I didn't know Michael Jackson personally. Therefore, I don't feel that I can pass judgment on him and I don't want to. That isn't up to me. All I can judge him on is his artistic ability and his body of work musically and artistically and I believe he was a great entertainer and a musical genius. All I know is that whenever I see a video or hear one of his songs, I feel light, cheery, and I all I want to do is smile and bob my head along with the beat. I can't tear my eyes away from Michael Jackson whenever I see him on TV or in a picture and that is something special.

When I heard there was an opportunity to be a part of the tribute to Michael Jackson at the Staples Center, I decided to register for the tickets on a half hearted whim. My aunt told me about the registration and told me to get on her computer to find out how to go about it. I registered my name, email, zip code, and date of birth and then proceeded to register almost every single person in the house. Everyone wanted to be a part of this event. The more time went by, the more I wanted to be at the Staples Center too. As I watched television specials on TV, I began to question my views and opinions about Michael Jackson and to see the true loss of an entertainer and human being. I was charmed and mesmerized by the child and young man he was at the beginning of his career and I began to remember the crush I had on him when I was young. I could easily see how I felt that way and to a certain extent, I began to redevelop that crush. On Sunday evening everyone who had registered for the tickets decided to check to see if any of us had won. I couldn't believe it when I opened up the email saying I had been successful in my application for the tickets. Just the day before, I had read extensive articles saying how slim the chances to win were. Still better than getting hit by lightening but not by much. As a matter of fact when I made the announcement, no one believed me. I went online, followed the instructions, and printed the necessary voucher to redeem the tickets at the Dodgers Stadium, the following day. Then, the QUESTION. Who do I take? I felt I should take my aunt, Zetta, or my cousin, Amy, since I'd registered on their computer and I knew they really wanted to go but I couldn't take my aunt since she's currently recovering from foot surgery and my cousin had to work. For some reason, my brother Joseph came into mind. He's the one who called me when news of MJ's death broke. He said he felt the whole city of Los Angeles was in shock and people were blasting MJ's music from their cars on the freeway. I thought he'd appreciate being a part of the memorial and so I gave him a call. He said he had to check with work but he was pretty sure he'd get the time off. My sister briefly entertained the idea of flying out but in the end, she decided it was too crazy an idea and Joseph called to say he'd gotten the time off. I told my sister we would always have Obama (we got to be at the inaugural ceremony in January) and now I would have Michael Jackson with our brother. Then I got on the phone with my father to ask if he'd serve as a bodyguard the next day at the Dodger's Stadium since I knew how coveted these tickets were. I didn't want to go alone and a lot of people warned me not to do so. My father said he'd be happy to go with me and we decided to leave as early as possible to avoid traffic jams and mob-city. It's a good thing we did, too. The whole process was a breeze since we were relatively close to the front of the long line of cars. It was a drive-through operation and we only waited about 15 minutes in total. When I got to the wristband guy he put one of the wristbands on my hand and handed me the other wristband. Right away, I noticed how tight the wristband he'd put on me was. I told him so and asked if he could take it off and or loosen it since it was too tight. He apologized for putting in on so tightly and said he realized it was his fault but there was nothing he could do. I insisted and he went off to look for his supervisor. As he walked away, he saw another wristband on the floor, picked it up and came back to the car. "Here. Don't tell anyone. Just cut off the one I put on your hand and put one of these on when you get home. Just don't tell anyone, ok?" OKAY!! I then drove to the ticket lady and she gave me two tickets to the STAPLES CENTER!! No Nokia Theater for me! Yay! BTW, not once did they ever check my ID. And the tickets weren't "computer generated at random", either! I definitely think it was better that I arrived early. Once I got home, I went online to read up on the ticket redemption progress. Already, the freeway off ramps were being closed. Again, I was happy I'd gone so early. All of a sudden, I remembered I had to pay my car payment. Ugh. This is when I'm sad to say I actually thought about selling one of my tickets for the MJ memorial. I went onto Ebay. WTF?! $150,000?!!! But wait, all of the posts are being deleted. Same thing on craigslist. It quickly became clear it would be hard to sell these tickets and if I'm being honest, I felt like a lowlife for even THINKING about doing that. My mind was made up. I'm not selling these tickets. I'm going to be there with my brother!!
Yesterday morning came rather quickly. I'd decided I would dress up appropriately in black and I knew my brother would do the same. I double checked to make sure I had the tickets and the wristbands. I followed the rules and didn't even take my camera. I grabbed my cell phone and my iTouch and hoped I'd get service so that I could report back on Twitter and Facebook (no such luck). I left the house at 6:45am and went to pick up my brother at his place near LAX. Thankfully there wasn't too much traffic. I got to my brother's at about 7:30am. Once he was in the car, I gave him his wristband.

Joseph: "Oh, this one is broken."

Me: “WHAT?!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

Of course my incredibly laid back brother says, "It's ok. I think I can fix it."

Me: "No, Joseph, you don't understand! They won't let us in without these!! They said if the wristbands are damaged in any way, we can't get in!"

Again, he assured me he would be able to fix it. He said he could fashion a little grommet (the part that was missing) from one on his shoe! I was extremely doubtful and told him it would be better if we went back to my place to get the part from the wristband I had cut off the night before. He told me to give him ten minutes and if he wasn't able to fix the band, we could drive to my place. I grudgingly agreed and true to his word, he did it!! It was a bit noticeable but it would HAVE to do. We couldn't waste any more time. After a brief stop for gas, we were on our way. Unfortunately, the off ramp to the Staples Center was closed and we had to detour and double back from the freeway. We got stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Figueroa Street where the Staples Center is located. At this point we are still ok on time but the clock is ticking away. 9:15, 9:30, 9:40!! Uh oh. Now they've closed off the street! My brother gets out and asks one of the traffic control officers how to get to the Staples Center. He comes back and says he was told it's too late!! Everything is closed. NO! The officer gave him some directions to try just in case and we race off. We get in another line of cars only to be told there is no more parking and we have to park in the neighboring residential area and walk to the Staples Center. Fine. Anything. At this point it's 9:54am and we get a call from my sister who assures us nothing has started and they are running late since the coffin is being transported to the Staples Center. Ok. There's still a chance! We turn onto a street and begin to look in vain for a parking spot. Nothing!! I'm driving down a residential street when I hear a whistle and then, "Ey! Parking spot, right here! 20 bucks!" I hit the brakes. What? It's a guy who looks like many of the guys in East LA. Sunglasses, black wife beater, shorts, knee high socks, tattoos, etc. etc.
Me: "Ummm. We're going to keep looking and we'll be back if we can't find anything. Twenty dollars is a little steep. Thank you."
East LA Guy: "Okay, 15!"
Me: "How about 10?"
East LA Guy: "Okay! 10 dollars. Come on! You can park in the back!"
Yes!!! We drive into the driveway and park the car in the back. There are already about 5 other cars there. When we walk out we pay the lady handling the money and the guy says. "Don't worry about your car, ey! I'll take care of it. You just enjoy yourself!" We thank them and walk about a block before we reach the first of the police checkpoints. "Wristbands and tickets! Let me see your wristbands and tickets, please!! Have them out, please!!" We lift our hands and show him our wristbands and the tickets. "Okay, you two, come on through." We walk through and continue on to the Staples Center. We are asked to show our wristbands and tickets 4 more times before we finally reach the doors to the Staples Center. "You made it! You're here! Welcome!" the people checking the tickets at the door and the security guards are all very friendly and cheerful. And let me tell you, it did feel like a journey! We show them our wristbands and tickets (again!), we get programs, and we are through the door. They inspect my purse tell us where to go. We scramble around a bit before we FINALLY find our seats. Whew! I'm immediately hit with the realization of just how quiet the crowd is. There are about 20,000 people in the stadium and it's QUIET. Five minutes later, the coffin is rolled in and the memorial service for Michael Jackson begins with a standing ovation for his coffin. What a shame. I think about how cool it would have been if I had won tickets to his concert and not his funeral.
I'm sure most of you saw the service and if you didn't it, you can probably find most of it online so I won't give a play by play. I just want to say that being there was very emotional and I didn't really think it would be. The first moment this thought went out the window was when Rev. Al Sharpton addressed Michael Jackson's children and told them, "…there wasn't nothing’ strange about your Daddy." Then, when his brother, Jermaine, sang and could barely finish the song. By the time Paris Jackson spoke, I dissolved into full on tears. This was some who was a son, a brother, an uncle, and most importantly, a father. Someone's Daddy. Too sad.
Ultimately, it was a long and emotional day but I was glad to see that the fans and the public could be so respectful. I wish I could say the same about the media.

Thank you for reading!

Rose