Michael Jackson has been dead for more than a week, and the hoopla continues. Here’s my two cents, then I let it go.

Michael Jackson will be known for two things. The first is his incredible talent. He started out as the lead singer of the Jackson 5, then moved on to a solo career. I remember his work in both venues. I was in elementary school during the Jackson 5 era, then in college when he did some of his best solo work. At that time he became known for his dance moves as much as his singing. As I have recently watched again the videos of Thriller and Beat It and others, I am still amazed at the way the man could move!

Unfortunately, Michael Jackson will also be known for his eccentricities and problems as well. His constantly changing face was a source of ridicule and speculation. His strange, short=lived marriages make my love life look normal. He was accused more than once of molesting little boys. These charges were never proven in a court of law, but I must admit, I would not have allowed my sons to attend a sleep over at Neverland. On top of that, Michael Jackson was beset by financial problems.

Since his death, fans have been mourning his loss. In the immediate aftermath of his unexpected demise, people seem to have forgotten all of the man’s problems. They wailed and cried and bemoaned his early death. His father said it well, commenting that he wished people had shown Michael those feelings while he was alive. It seems that, for a little while, at least, the nasty rumors and jokes about the man disappeared. That was only temporary, however. Some of the old demons are creeping back in, as well as new allegations of drug abuse. Even though he is dead, the man’s life is being dissected once again.

Janet Jackson said it best. “To you, Michael is an icon. To us, Michael is family.” Michael Jackson had family and friends (not fans who adored from afar, but friends who spoke to him, spent time with him, and developed a relationship with him) who loved him dearly and deeply. The pain for them is so much more than that of Michael’s fans. They have lost a component of their lives that cannot be replaced. It is for them that I feel much sympathy and sadness.

It is time to let the man go and let his loved ones grieve for him in peace.

R.I.P., Michael Jackson

When Master first sent me this quote, my first thought was bdsm. A sub should give more and better services on any task. But that begged the question, if a sub did that. What was it the only certain means to? I asked Master about the original context of the quote. Being Master Bennet, he told me to look it up. (Sometimes I think he missed his calling as a teacher, but he says he doesn’t have the patience. He is right; he would kill some of the smart ass kids today.) When I did, I found the Og Mandino was a successful business man who wrote several books.

This quote makes sense in business. It also seems to be the best way to success. If a business gives more and better service than expected, it will probably be successful. I guess I have a problem with the “certain means” part. I don’t believe anything is certain in this world.

Master and I discussed this in terms of bdsm and in the context of relationships. I know that I have given my best, my all, everything I could think of for the man and the relationship, all to no avail. And, I told Master Bennet, that I don’t think that we work because I give him my all, my best. Relationships also require an acceptance of the other’s faults. Both Doms and subs have faults. We must accept that. We must accept them in our own partner, or the relationship will not succeed, regardless of what type of relationship it is.

“The only certain means is to render more and better service than is expected of you, no matter what your task may be." This makes sense in the business world, although I don’t believe it will automatically make you successful, and it certainly won’t make you successful overnight. But it is a sound principle to live by.

I think I need to pass this information on to my business-minded son.

In the wake of the sudden, unexpected death of Michael Jackson, Master Bennet asked me what dead musician/recording artist I would bring back to make one more album. Master assigned this as a post for this blog.

So, who would I choose? Who would Master choose? I suspect Master would choose someone in the Rat Pack. He loves Sinatra and Martin. There is no doubt that they had talent. They originally recorded in a time when editing and remixing weren’t options. Your best take became the record. With today’s bells and whistles, talent is very nearly optional in the music industry anymore. Nevertheless, I haven’t spent much time listening to them myself.

Currently I listen to a lot of country music. There are several artist whose music I like: Brad Paisley, Toby Keith, Kenny Chesney, to name a few. I like some artists who have been around a long time, like Reba McIntire and Randy Travis, but they’re not dead.

So, who would I pick? I like Johnny Cash, but to some extent that is because my mother adored him. Listening to him reminds me of her. And I liked his older music. He had a song that got some playing time after his death, but it didn’t do much for me.

The King, Elvis Presley, has to be considered. His best stuff, however, belonged to a different time, most of it in the 50s and 60s before I was even really listening to music. Likewise, the King of Pop, Michael Jackson, had some great stuff, both as part of the Jackson 5 and later as a solo artist. But… But…

But then I thought of someone. Someone who sang from the heart and spoke to the soul. Interestingly enough, much of his fame came after his death. What would he have produced if he had not died in a plane crash at the age of 30?

Jim Croce. His best known song was probably Time in a Bottle, about how he wished he could save up all his time to spend it with the one he loved. Ironically, the song also talked about how there never seems to be enough times for the things we love. Croce also sang story songs, like Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.

I used to have Jim Croce’s Greatest Hits. I even remember it in 8 Track form. The songs all talked about realistic situations and colorful people. It was one of those few albums where all of the songs were good.

So, who would I bring back for an encore? Jim Croce.

I saw this earth-shattering news on the Internet today. Adam Lambert is gay! OMG!

*yawn*

Oops, sorry. Guess I slipped into what I really think there for a moment. Okay, really. So Adam Lambert is gay. And I care because…? Why is this such big news? For those of you (like me) who don’t know who Adam Lambert is, he is the runner up on the latest season of American Idol. I didn’t bother to read the article. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were to tell me just how many of the well-known contestants of that show have told the world they are gay. This is NEWS!

Why? Why is it news? Why does it matter? We judge people who say they are gay. I have come to the conclusion that unless I am sleeping with or wish to sleep with the person, their sexual orientation doesn’t matter. Now, if Master Bennet were to tell me he were gay, that would impact me. Of course, I know he isn’t gay. I suppose it’s possible that he’s bi…

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I don’t understand the big flap about sexual orientation. How someone else has sex is not my business. Many of the people who are against gay marriage talk about the erosion of the family. What? If you say to gay people, “You cannot get married,” do you really think they will turn around and say, “Well, then, I guess I’d better marry someone of the opposite sex and raise a family.” That is beyond ridiculous. By not allowing gays to marry, you have changed nothing. People who are gay will remain gay. People who are gay and wish to raise children will search for (and find) ways to do that.

In all honesty, I can’t find any reason to care about another’s sexual orientation, except for the aforementioned reason of wanting some of them for myself. I will admit, if one (or both) of my son’s told me he was gay, I would have a chat with him about the challenges that will bring. But, hey, my kids are biracial. They are no strangers to challenge. Besides, I want my kids to be happy and true to themselves.

So, as far as the next person that “comes out of the closet” is concerned, unless his name is Bennet, don’t bother me with it.

Do you know why Iowans talk about the weather so much? It's because it's screwy here. There is a joke that goes, "If you've ever used both the heater and the air comditioner in your car on the same day, you might be from Iowa." Been there, done that.

I am 46 years old and have lived all of those years in Iowa. I've seen thunderstorms and tornadoes, blizzards and ice storms. In Iowa, you accept it, or at least you wait until you retire, and then you move south during the winter, becoming a snowbird.

I think I've mentioned how cold it's been at baseball games. So far, June has been kind of cool. But, hey, it's Iowa. Suck it up and deal with it. But tonight, I encountered something that was new even for me, a life-long Iowan. I went to a baseball game. As I said, it's been cool. Today was cloudy and rainy and windy. I refuse to wear a winter coat to a baseball game. Nevertheless, I thought I should be prepared. I pulled some sweatpants over my shorts, and over my T-shirt I put a long-sleeved shirt and a sweatshirt. For good measure, I put on a light jacket. I was twice my normal size and bore a fleeting resemblence to the Michelen man. So, fully prepared, I headed to the ball field.

At first I felt a little warm, but kept my jacket on anyway. Then the clouds moved off to the west. Beautiful blue skies appeared in the east and spread over the area. Things heated up, and the jacket came off. Soon it bacame apparent that that wasn't enough. The sweatshirt came off, too. I considered taking off the long-sleeved shirt...

So, there you have it. Iowa weather was working in reverse. And of course, as I accepted THAT bit of lunacy, the sun went down. Back on went the sweatshirt. By the end of the evening, the jacket was back on, zipped all the way up.

Crazy...