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Georg hat mal nachgefragt, ob ich was über Michael Jackson blogge. “ ‚türlich nicht!“, dachte ich, „viel zu faul“. Aber dann kam’s doch anders und ich hab heute bei der LIU1-Prüfung was zamgeschrieben. Also warum nicht? Dann kann es genauso gut auch hier stehen…
This is probably not what was required.
In fact, it neither meets Georg’s requirement (to write something flashmob-related), nor the exam’s. Aber es hat sich einfach aufgedrängt.
Of course none of this ever happend :)
So here we go:


I never considered myself a Michael Jackson fan. I used to date one though, back when I was fourteen.
I remember the time (pun indeed intended) when he invited me over to his place, his parents being at work, and I was thinking to myself: „Well, this is it. Jackpot.“
He had never before shown any particular interest in me, apart from being classmates and rather good pals. I, on the other hand, had been madly in love for almost four months, starting with a classtrip to the cinema (but that’s a whole different story…)
Anyway, four (!) months. Quite a long time, considering…
His invitation set off a chain reaction of high hopes and romantic fantasies in this lovesick teenage girls‘ mind. Images of first kisses, marriage proposals and free haircuts for the rest of my life! (His mother being a hairdresser…)

I could hardly hear myself knocking on his door because my heart was pounding furiously. To this day I still think that my heartbeat was plainly audible all the way from Engerthstraße to Praterstern. My palms were sweating and I can’t even remember those first moments we spent together in the hallway. What I do remember is that he spent the whole of the afternoon showing me his collection of Michael Jackson videos and teaching me all the moves of the infamous Thriller-choreography. He was quite the dancer. I kept struggling along, smiling sheepishly, thinking if I could just master this silly moonwalk thing it might earn me his love and a kiss I was so desperately hoping for.

Well, to cut a long story short: No way.
I never figured out how to moonwalk. And I never managed to get kissed. At least not that afternoon.
But – this being 1988 (I think) – my efforts were indeed rewarded. They earned me the chance to accompany Prince Charming to the only concert Michael Jackson ever played in Vienna.
And did Prince Charming finally kiss me at the concert? You bet.

So if anyone should ask me about the amazing show of light and special effects, I honestly would not remember. Neither would I remember the line-up of songs, the costume changes, whatever…
But I do remember Mr. Right taking me in his arms while M.J. was crooning „The lady of my life“. Because that’s when he made me the lady of his. At least for the following three years.

Therefore, even if I never was a faithful fan:
Rest in peace, M.J.
I owe you.

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