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My Surreal Night With Michael Jackson
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Michael A. Mariant / AP Photo
Amid the King of Pop's memorial-service hoopla, I can now share the strange, decade-old story of my dinner with the Gloved One. An evening that included unexpected guests (Cory Booker? Judith Regan?), a secret message in one of his songs and a superstar yelping, howling, bawling into his linen napkin.
“Wanna meet Michael Jackson?”
It was one of the strangest questions I’ve ever received, and it came from the most unlikely source: Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, he of the “Kosher” (Sex, Sutra, Adultery) line of books. It was November 2000, Boteach’s 34th birthday, and he was inviting a couple of his favorite folks to his New Jersey manse to meet the Artist of the Millennium. And oh yes, the unlikely duo—they’d met in 1999, and Boteach fancied himself Jackson’s "spiritual adviser"—were going to unveil their charity, aptly named Heal the Kids. Was I interested in joining them for dinner?
Uh, yeah.
On the appointed evening I arrived in Englewood, New Jersey, where Boteach and his gaggle of offspring dwell. About 25 of us—including publishing notable Judith Regan, fitness guru Oz Garcia, hedge-fund titan Michael Steinhardt, and future Newark Mayor Cory Booker, another Boteach pal—chatted among ourselves, sipping (kosher) wine and trying to play it cool. But who were we kidding? We were not remotely interested in each other; we were waiting for the Gloved One, and we knew it.
Just then there was a rustling under the table and Jackson lifted the tablecloth. “Oh, look!” he squealed. “A doggie!”
I’m not sure when He actually walked in; all I know is that at one point I glanced back and saw Boteach shepherding a slight, slim-hipped woman with shoulder-length black hair around the room. She was wearing a purplish button-down shirt and black trousers, and people seemed very happy to meet her. And then she swiveled and I realized that this woman was, in fact, the Man himself, the dude whose “Shake Your Body Down to the Ground” blasted at the first boy/girl party I’d even attended, circa 1980. A pair of black sunglasses perched on his sliver of a nose, which had a tiny Band-Aid across it. Sparse patches of hair dotted his chin and upper lip, a feeble attempt, I suppose, at a goatee. Other than those dark specks, however, his skin was translucent. He looked like he’d just stepped out of Madame Tussaud’s.
I waited for Boteach and his charge to make their way over to me, but that never happened. Why would it? I was but a lowly journalist whose mission, I soon learned, was to document the evening, and spread the word about Heal the Kids. I didn’t need to actually meet Michael.
Soon we headed into the dining room. There were three tables set up for the adults, and a kid’s table in an adjacent room. That’s where Boteach’s brood sat, along with Jackson’s kids—towhead toddlers Paris and Prince, who were dressed like little Victorian dolls. The Jackson Two were clearly Caucasian, yet they did seem to share some of Jackson’s features. I wondered: Was it possible he really was their biological father? Can vitiligo be transmitted in utero?
I was seated with Boteach’s wife, Deborah; a journalist from England; and one other Nobody. Jackson was supposed to sit at a long table to my right, but there was a glitch: He wanted to hang with the kids instead. A summit ensued, with Boteach and Jackson’s entourage speaking in hushed tones: How could they get him to play nice with the grownups?
Somehow they succeeded and the meal began, the guests surreptitiously eyeing Jackson, who had not removed his sunglasses (or Band-Aid). I had still not been introduced, and I was annoyed. Finally, there was a vacancy next to him. I sidled over.
“Hi,” I said, plopping down. “I’m Abby, and I’ve been wanting to ask you this since I was 12 years old. What does Mamma-Say—Mamma Sah—Mamma-Coo-Sa mean?”
He laughed, a high-pitched chirp that sounded like a castrato. “You’re the second person in my entire career to ask me that!” he trilled. “It means, 'I need you, l love you, I want you’ in Swahili. It fit the song, so I added it in."
Wow! The secret hidden message in “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’”! This was important information! Made perfect sense to me. I don't speak Swahili, so what did I know? (I have since tried to confirm this translation with native Kenyans—who presumably would know—and they looked at me like I had five heads.)
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Abby Ellin regularly writes the "Vows" column for the New York Times, and previously wrote the "Preludes" column for that newspaper about young people and money. Her work has appeared in a range of publications, including Time, Marie Claire, More, Self and Glamour. She is the author of Teenage Waistland, but her greatest claim to fame is naming “Karamel Sutra” ice cream for Ben and Jerry's.
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Abby Ellin regularly writes the "Vows" column for the New York Times, and previously wrote the "Preludes" column for that newspaper about young people and money. Her work has appeared in a range of publications, including Time, Marie Claire, More, Self and Glamour. She is the author of Teenage Waistland, but her greatest claim to fame is naming “Karamel Sutra” ice cream for Ben and Jerry's.
Your comments about vitiligo are extremely ignorant; the onset typically starts around 20 and is caused by a combination of factors, including genetics. The available treatments for it are pretty abysmal. It is an autoimmune disease, and recent discoveries show that it shares the same gene as other autoimmune diseases such as Hashimoto's (the primary cause of hypothyroidism in the U.S.), rheumatoid arthritis, etc. You know, things you typically don't laugh at.
I'm glad you had fun meeting Jackson and love to tell the tale, but could you be a responsible journalist and refrain from that type of mush? Or find another way to be funny? Thanks.
Wow, lighten up (no pun intended -- sorry, couldn't resist). It was an obvious joke, since no one ever credibility believed that his condition was 100% the result of vitiligo (he may have had it, but that's not why his entire face turned white all at once) and the recent autopsy confirmed skin bleaching. She wasn't disparaging people with vitiligo and clearly was not making any serious suggestion about the little kids looking Caucasian because of it. She was obviously making a veiled reference to the controversy over whether he was their biological father.
(BTW, my wife has a pretty bad case of it so I'm not speaking from ignorance or indifference to the difficulties of the condition.)
The skin bleaching was do to necessities caused by having a career as a performer. He was going for an even tone of skin color, not attempting to be Caucasian.
I'm sure vitiligo is an interesting affliction, but perhaps Ellin meant to illuminate another one even more frightening -- the rash of freak shows in modern America. While perhaps not with the clumsiness of Peter King, the Jackson edition of this freak show (like the OJ, the Palin, the Sanford, ad infinitum) bears musing upon.
This was a story about the author's impression at a dinner party not an investigative report. Lighten up. If you want serious, go to Vanity Fair on-line and read Maureen Orth's in depth and lengthy articles about MJ she has written over the last sixteen years.
Wow EastVillageGal! A little sensitive today, yes?
Seemed to me that the author exposed her ignorance in many ways ("Why are your kids hair so light??"), but I didn't find this nearly as offensive as some of the other muck that's been written about this sorry man. In fact, I thought it was an interesting snapshot.
And I don't know why you think she has an obligation to be a responsible journalist. She writes for Time, Marie Claire, More, Self and Glamour, and named an ice cream. Give a girl a break.
Ha! Funny. And thanks for giving me a break. I also write for the NY Times and I wrote a 'serious' book about fat kids, if that counts for anything...!
My armchair diagnosis is he had a psychotic break long ago. Prior to that he may have been a kid at heart who yearned for the childhood he never had. But he was still basically a thinking, functioning adult who helped manage his own career, displayed occasional genius and could give coherent interviews that came across as moderately normal. It's possible he always had a multiple personality disorder and occasional lapsed into 8-year-old Michael. But something happened along the way and he became permanently trapped in 8-year-old Michael. The problem was he was like the boy king by then, an 8-year-old boy in an adult body surrounded by sycophants who enabled his bad behavior and helped him lose touch with reality and he didn't have anyone influential enough to bring him back or ground him.
citivas, You nailed it perfectly. I have been reading a lot about MJ lately and read that the psychologist appointed by the court in California to examine him came to the conclusion that he did not fit the profile of a pedophile, but was basically a 12 year old boy. I don't think we will ever know the exact truth about The Man in the Mirror, too many lies and rumors sold to the tabloids are paraded as facts. And of course he added a lot of fuel to the fire, but if he was innocent of pedophilia I hope the truth comes out in my lifetime. Nothing would make me happier.
@citivas ~ for some reason since MJ passed away I've been *obsessive* about him (do not have an explanation - I never followed him when he was alive sadly) but I've been looking through raw video of his interviews and such and he did seem to have some sort of break down around 1990 or 1991 which I can't figure out - could be drugs, perhaps that first accusation, not sure. His facial expressions changed, his smile changed a bit, his aura was just different from the decade before. I know he split from Quincy Jones and Frank DiLeo about that time and he was tape recorded talking about the fact that he was literally desperate to find love (very sad).
Whatever the deal with his skin - whether it had to happen or not - it's a big bummer b/c he looked amazing with dark skin (ie - those Fran Leibovitz photos in Vanity Fair are breathtaking I think) while the lighter shade didn't compliment his features as well.
Regarding the lyric Jackson told you was Swahili? Guess he lied. He stole it from a Cameroonian saxophonist, Manu Dibango, who had a hit record in the early 70s. Makossa is a Cameroonian dance. Lots of sources on line deal with the copyright issues that ensued. I heard Dibango interviewed about it, and since he'd created the actual chant, it was original work, not folk material available for the grasping.
I know, I know. I didn't include that story since it wasn't part of my actual conversation with MJ, but I do remember when all the copyright issues went down.
Vitiligo is splotchy. No one in the history of the disease had perfectly even skin tone. That is the weird-looking part of the desease -- the skin's melanin does wacky things.
That's point one. Point two is that Janet Jackson refuted the claim outright. She said what her brother was claiming wasn't so. Period. He didn't have it, never had it and no family member EVER had it.
Jacko took drugs to lighten his skin. You can't get THAT light just with bleaching creams. You'd take your skin off with that much bleach -- which sadly happens in Africa at this point in time. Women are sold harsh bleaches and won't stop until their skin breaks up -- resulting in skin cancer and other issues.
Jacko did not always tell the truth about himself. He didn't feel he needed to or that the media deserved it necessarily.
It's time for the AfAm community to stop this weird defense of a brotha who didn't make a lot of sense. If they insist on it, then they will also not make a lot of sense. Perhaps idolizing someone does that anyway.
Regardless of what you think, you weren't there and I doubt that you know of anyone personally who has even a comparible childhood experience as Michael Jackson. If he had vitiligo, bleaching he skin was or wearing concealing make-up were the options he had available if he wanted to maintain a career. As far as the Black (no one says Caucasian-American) community is concerned, it isn't monolithic as far as Michael Jackson is concerned. The opinions about him range from empathy to condemnation...just like any other demographic.
What about mutilating his nose? What condition was that? This was just about a dinner party and the author's impression. It is not an investigative report. Lighten up. Or, if you want serious, take some time to read Maureen Orth's lengthy in depth articles about Michael that were published in Vanity Fair over the last sixteen years:
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/politics/2009/06/michael-jackson-is-gon e-but-the-sad-facts-remain.html
maddymappo--great link to the Vanity Fair articles--thanks!
Abby: love your bio. Saw Karamel Sutra at the supermarket last night and laughed my head off.
I'm biracial (black and white) and I think Michael Jackson was one crazy mother$%#@%$.
There is so much written about MJ that no one knows what is true and what isn't. All we have are these testimonials from people who actually were in the same room with him and got the chance to actually talk to him. These are the stories we need, not the tabloid garbage that people believe without a blink of the eye!
Very interesting. Jackson was kid like and smart. Talented and sad. Have yourself a free copy of "New World Hors D'oeuvres," compliments of the author:
michaelslevinson.com/newworld.pdf
Another writer described him as a "hybrid" - and he also got lambasted. Whatever, MJ was definitely unusual and anyone who tries to describe him is describing *their experience* so of course everyone has a different take. He was kind of a chameleon and if that's a "New World Hors D'oeuvres", well that's your take.
Abby, thank you very much. I haven't laughed so hard in quite awhile.
I'm not sure what pissed me off the most: that you punked a dead man with the same tired and tawdry accusations about his children that dogged him when he was alive OR that you used one of my dearest friends (the "late thirty-ish woman") and her daughter's illness (leukemia, not a "rare form of cancer" and she was NEVER treated with radiation---her mother NEVER said that) to underscore Jackson's "howling."
Funny thing is that little girl is now a young girl and read your article and broke down crying over your misrepresentation of Jackson (with whom her family remained in contact with over the years until his untimely death). By the way, Jackson was not the only person visibly moved in the room. But she was very touched that a grown man was not afraid to empathize with her plight. Big deal? Perhaps not to a jaded reporter but it certainly mattered to her. Irresponsible journalism and sensationalism never take a day off.
The ignorant comments you make in your article (asking him about his children's features in the face of what he knew was tabloid fodder was pure tacky) is surpassed only by the nonsensical assertions of some comment makers here (bleaching skin foolishness--please).
Now that Jackson has passed away, his dermatologist confirmed what I and those close to him knew for years: that he DID have vitiligo. In addition, the disease is hereditary in the Jackson family so he was not the only member who suffered from it. Then again, had you researched that enough, then you would have known that. Whatever Jackson's foibles were, lying about his health and (as you correctly surmised, much to your credit) covering up a predilection for young boys were not among them.
Hope you can sleep better knowing that a young cancer patient who is STILL recovering went to bed in tears.
Ohplease7 - thanks for the human perspective . This article is tacky, mean and totally unecessary. I don't know much about Michael Jackson, but it sounds like he liked dogs, was moved to tears by a young girls battle with cancer, and responded incredibly politely to the writer's rude, insensitive questioning of his childrens' hair color (and by extension their paternity - good grief). Nice way to repay his kindness.
Thank you.
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