Monday, June 29, 2009

Quote of the Day (Former Record Mogul Walter Yetnikoff, on the Duality of Michael Jackson)


CNN anchor Carol Lin: “What was Michael Jackson like?”


Former CBS Records head Walter Yetnikoff: “Well, he's many different people, as a lot of us are. Part of him is a child. And you know, people have said that they've heard him speak in a different voice, you know, other than the squeaky one. I've never heard anything other than the squeaky voice. And I knew him quite well. And the story I tell to illustrate, you know, the childish part of his nature is, we were at a formal affair. And he had the monkey with him. And I was there. And we were all dressed in tuxedos, except for the monkey. And he turned to me...”


Lin: “This was Bubbles, right?”


Yetnikoff: “This was Bubbles, yes. I think there are a number of Bubbles, actually. And he turned to me and he said, ‘I have to tinkle. Can you take me to the potty?’


“I didn't actually, or else I might have more to report. So that's sort of the childish part of him. He was also in that era, quite an astute business person. You know, he bought the Beatles publishing catalogue. He was very careful about contracts. So in a lot of technical ways, he was a very good businessman.”—Transcript of Carol Lin interview with Walter Yetnikoff, CNN Sunday Night, March 14, 2004

In Yetnikoff’s wild, bridge-burning tell-all, Howling at the Moon, few figures evoke as much simultaneous hilarity and pathos as Michael Jackson. That duality—the same kind expressed in the droll, jaw-dropping anecdote above—lies at the heart of Jackson’s life and career.

The torrent of reactions unleashed by the death of the self-styled King of Pop indicates just how often he crossed boundaries—between rock and R&B, reality and fantasy, black and white, male and female, straight and gay.

Yetnikoff’s tale—which, given the publicly displayed absurdities of the singer’s life, cannot be dismissed out of hand—points to the boundary that Jackson was ultimately powerless to cross, one that inevitably led to last week’s tragedy: the divide between childhood and adulthood.

He never had a childhood, the child-man Jackson confessed to Yetnikoff, who was left shaking his head as much at the star’s personal deficits as at his record-breaking achievements: “‘Understand,’ he told me, ‘that I was a star when I was six.’ Sometimes I felt that he was still six. I wasn’t sure he could name the President of the United States. He had no social skills. He was a child who sought the company of other children.”

There it is: the King of Pop in his true role—not Captain Eo, but Peter Pan.

Last week, channel-surfing from Channel 4 to Fox’s New York news affiliate, I was struck by how gingerly anchors at both stations approached the child-abuse charges concerning the star. Those allegations cannot be discounted either in assessing his career or in judging him as a human being.

That Jackson became in the 1990s the quarry of an tabloid press heavily influenced by Fleet Street émigrés can’t be doubted. (For confirmation, if you ever get a chance, try to hunt down sometime a 1994 PBS Frontline documentary, Tabloid Truth.) But Jackson’s own increasingly bizarre behavior served as carrion for the journalistic vultures.

Jackson’s father Joseph subjected him to physical and emotional abuse as a child. At the end of the day, we are left with the real possibility that Jackson conformed to the prototype displayed by many child molesters: the victim who in turn becomes victimizer.

A line from Josephine Hart’s novel of politics and sexual obsession, Damage, partially explains Jackson’s dilemma: “Damaged people are dangerous; they know they can survive.” On the contrary: the singer’s life contained more than enough danger, but his death proved he could not survive the emotional turmoil that increasingly threatened to engulf him.

Hanging a child out of a high window for a crowd of fans to glimpse is more than the “terrible mistake” Jackson copped to—it’s child endangerment.

In 1994, Jackson’s attorney Johnnie Cochran negotiated an out-of-court settlement of child-molestation charges for an amount that has ranged from $5 to $20 million. Expensive legal assistance was also required to win him acquittal in his 2005 criminal trial on child-molestation charges—though at least one juror told reporters that he believed that at some point or another, Jackson had molested some child.

Subtracting his millions, then, would have put him in far graver legal jeopardy.

If Jackson was really some kind of Holden Caulfield, as certain enablers insisted, then why did he possess stashes of pornography in Neverland that could be picked up by his young visitors? Why did he see nothing wrong or even borderline creepy with sleeping with children?

In adulthood, Jackson became celebrated for his seeming ability to do it all: sing, compose, produce, execute dance moves like the Moonwalk that even impressed Fred Astaire, command a crowd, and star in videos with all the wizardry of a full-length MGM production.

Unfortunately, even with all the business acumen that Yetnikoff noticed, the one thing Jackson couldn’t do mattered the most to him: retrieve a stolen childhood.

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