MJ RIP

I could tell from the start that this was going to be a strange, strange day.

I woke a bit hangover, which is a real rarity these days and to my defense I think it was less the volume and more the mix that brought me to this state. Maureen and Isobel were both sleeping over at the in-laws so it was just me, the cat and the throbbing in my head this morning. I looked at the time on my phone and it read 4:04. “Oh god,” I thought, “two more hours to sleep…and I MUST have water or I think I will die,”

A blink of an eye later and I was battling with the alarms on my phone (yes, somehow I turned on a second alarm) each of which was competing on their 9-minute snooze cycles. Finally the process became so tedious that I gave up on the whole affair and just rolled my ass out of bed. I was feeling better now, but still somewhere between not great and slightly unwell. Still, I manage to make and consume a pot of coffee, a couple Nurophin plus and a runny 3 egg omelet before preparing myself for the journey to work.

This is the point at which the day evolved from painful to just strangely numb. Farrah Fawcett passed away as I left the house, my characteristically on-time bus was uncharacteristically late and traffic was strangely dense, one of my most enthusiastic students was so upset that he asked to go home as soon as he arrived and it was then that someone turned to me and asked if I had, “Heard the news?”.

“What news?’

“Michiael Jackson died.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really. Apparently he had a heart attack.”

“Weird.” Said I…and I made myself a cup of Licorice tea and cut up an orange.

And that’s how the day progressed, from one weird moment to the next. My teammates cried. The radio blasted Michael’s greatest hits all day. The kids fought. My phone stopped working. Alex’s chicken was gored. Helicopters hovered in the air for no reason. People I’ve known only briefly told me wondrous and humorous stories about their personal lives that I promised to never to reveal. Best of all, Hell ceased to exist somewhere in the Pentecostalist church! Praise GOD!!!

So now I find myself back at one of my best old blogging haunts: Federation Square. Once again, it’s winter. People are milling around. I’m sipping a beer, eating wasabi peas outside Chocolate Buddha. But tonight is different though. Weirdly so…
I’m a father, I’m nearly 40 and there’s a Michael Jackson video tribute on the massive screen. As much as I miss those days, sitting here in the center of one of the coolest, busiest cities in the southern hemisphere, nursing a pint, typing and watching the people of the world walk by…more than anything I miss my little family unit.

They’ll be home soon and as I pack this computer up, so will I.