Earlier this summer, I'd gone to my local Walgreens to satisfy a craving for peanut M&Ms. As I stood in the candy aisle deciding just how big of a bag I should purchase, a woman and her two small children joined me in the aisle. The mother stood there looking over the sale items as her two kids, a girl and a boy, argued over candy. Then, the young one, the boy, suddenly walked towards the magazine rack, and pointed to a picture of Michael Jackson. He screamed, "Michael Jackson! Michael Jackson," then pursed his lips, started loudly breathing through his mouth, and began what must have been his version of dancing like Mike.
Now, this little boy couldn't have been more than three. There's no way that he could remember Michael the way that you and I remember Michael. Yet he shared such a pure enthusiasm for the MJJ, such a love that I couldn't do anything but smile at him and think about the ways that Michael continues to live and touch lives. Little boys rocking out at the sight of Michael Jackson on a magazine cover is exactly what legends are made of.
