Neverland: My Respect

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my respect, originally uploaded by bobotsky.

News all over different mediums are centered to Michael Jackson's memorial venue. Whether it'd be held at Encino, Forest Lawn, Staples Center or Neverland. And so many people thought it would be just makes more sense to have it on Neverland.

Many arrived and pitched their tents on the either side of the whole stretch of Figueroa road, and stayed over at the early part of the week assuming they'd be the ones to be there first. Later, the news broke many hearts with disappointment.

D and I drove 130 miles north of 101 from Los Angeles all the way to San Olivos one thursday morning to see the Neverand. We don't intend to stay there overnight. We brought just the basic stuffs. Twelve pieces of siomai. fried rice. large Robek's. two bottled water.

As we turned right to Figueroa coming from Hwy 154 West, both sides of the road were streaming with cordon tapes in between by little post that says: No Parking Between Signs. Santa Barbara County". It was a pretty long stretch. A stretch where all the campers used to stay. They're all gone.

You'll know you're on the right track when you're seeing a stream of cars and SUVs are passing on the other side of the road. It is obviously unusual to see hordes of such in a rancher's place. Suddenly, big white trucks started to show up parked on either side of the road. Flaunting their huge antennae dish on their roofs. The road ground was lined with cables and power lines. Around fifty trucks. Easily.

And there we were.

I never realized I would drive all the way this far just to see Neverland. I used to see this place in the news many years back. The most recent before Michael's death was when he abandoned it and stayed for a while in Dubai.

Many people, half from the news media were there. But eerily silent. No parties. Just there. Many took pictures of the main gate emblazoned with "Neverland", two large white rose wreath adorned each side of the gates. Michael's music played in the air, bringing others to tears.

Three young ladies drove all the way from Vancouver, Canada came and burst into tears upon arriving the Neverland. Journalists, photojournalists and news anchors are everywhere. All in the same spirit of mourning.

We left with a little note on a huge white board.

MJ Public Memorial Lottery

MJ Public Memorial Lottery, originally uploaded by bobotsky.

It dawn on me. Many people all over the US, and not to mention the entire world, are wanting to witness and pay homage to the final rites of the king of Pop this coming tuesday, July 7th. Hundreds upon thousands of people registered and cross-fingered hoping they'll get the call for the priceless tickets. Some are even taking long-haul flights or long drive just to be there.

And here I am, a local resident of Los Angeles, living at the heart of downtown LA where I can easily tell if something's going on at the Staples Center at night for its bright search lights illuminates the sky, a stones throw away from where I live just by looking from my bedroom window and yet not daring to go?

Sound stupid don't you think?

Michael's music, particularly the young Michael's era, is close to me. I grew up listening to them all. So it's a big loss on my music part of life in a way when I heard of his passing. Deep inside I cried for him. For he was like many of us. He was just a regular little boy from the industrial side of town in Indiana where everybody has to work so hard to earn a decent dime. He didn't have a childhood because of all these. And so to hear him sing, belting and moaning and screeching his high pitch notes is just purely magical.

And then the magic died.

I could easily just watch the memorials in the comfort of my house with a good 42" flats but why? The least I could do is to go out there, walk even for miles and tens of downtown blocks and pay my respect to Michael, and the magic his voice taught me to love and appreciate good music.

So long, Michael. Peace.