At Eaten Alive: Princesa; This Is It

She wore a three-thousand dollar necklace and nothing more.

In the fetid heat of Miami, a new breed of socialite emerges: Princesa.

Thanks once again to Christopher Grant at Eaten Alive for allowing my putrescence to ooze onto his page.

I'll lay off the zombies for a while, but only because I've been following a Plague Artist through the dark streets of a walled-in city, and his story is nearly told. Then who knows?

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We watched This Is It last night, MJ's last "performance." While interesting, it never rose to the levels we expected: Where was the pathos? The shining moments of real glory? The man behind the jacket and sunglasses? While the concert undoubtedly would've been one for the ages (and B and I would've done just about anything to get tickets), the film sort of meanders and never takes a real road or makes a statement, never living up to the opening. Like the dancers auditioning in the opening scene, we were pumped. Near tears, I confess. But then... nothing. And just as I yawned for the ten-thousandth time, it ended. We were confused. That was it?

That was it.

Despite the film, I still hold that Michael Jackson is the greatest single performer of all time (the Beatles get best group), and his death an absolute tragedy. I also feel sad for those who didn't grow up with MJ. I was 11 when Thriller came out and changed the world. I remember being at my every-Saturday haunt, Great Skate, and putting down the rubber stop in front of the DJ booth, where they'd lowered a screen to show it. Everyone crowded there. Watched it in rapt silence. Freaked out when it was done.

You can never take back that first moment you heard Billie Jean or Beat It. And I was a loyal fan, all through the scandals and bizarre rumors and even HIStory, which has its moments of brightness. :) And I'm still a fan. Just... possibly not recommending this last film, which feels like a hollow attempt to make money off a dead man, and not the tribute it should've been.

I never had my own skates, btw. I always had to rent the brown, smelly ones with the bright orange stop. My spoiled cousin had her own shiny white ones, complete with pink pom-poms. God, I was jealous. I thought that if only I had white leather skates, my life would be complete. I lusted even then!

It's a Best Buy now. I drove by a couple of years ago on a trip to visit family in CT and saw that and just about cried. B said we could go in, but I couldn't do it.