I’m a nervous wreck. But all I can do is wait, and spend the time reflecting on some recent developments in the ongoing Michael Jackson saga.

First, June 27th has come and gone, and Michael apparently has not risen from the dead on the third day, as was prophesied. But remember, you can’t prove a negative. There is still a chance that He’s hiding out somewhere in the vastness of Neverland, or in His parents’ compound in Encino, waiting for the right time to make His re-appearance. We drove by the Encino gate the other day and witnessed 19 satellite dishes (by my actual count) ready to beam Him down from His heavenly moonwalk, should He need their assistance. Meantime, they did what satellite dishes always do in situations like this: They recorded the comings and goings of anonymous black SUVs that may or may not have somebody famous in them.

But on a more positive note, the Reverend Al Sharpton, well-known media whore, has been asking that the US Postal Service issue a stamp commemorating Michael Jackson. (Actually, he’s been sort of demanding it, but cut him some slack; he’s been talking that way for so long he doesn’t know any other way to go about it. I’d love to hear one of his prayers: “Heavenly Father, you white honky motherfucker, we demand …”)

Actually, I think this is a great idea. The USPS, like everybody else, is hurting for money. You know what the best-selling stamp of all time was? Elvis Presley. I don’t know all the other rankings, but I know that Marilyn Monroe was up there in the top 10. Apparently the American stamp-buying public has an endless appetite for overdosing pill-junkie superstars. Why not one more? (And oh, Heavenly Father, let Rush Limbaugh be the next overdosing pill junkie on a stamp!) These commemorative issues are big profit-makers for the PO, as many of them go into collections and are never used. They have a rule that, except for ex-presidents, you have to be dead for five years before you can appear on a stamp, but I’m sure that can be waived in this case. After all, Al demands it.

Al is also savvy enough to know that you never issue just one demand, so he’s also demanding that Obama declare a national day of mourning. (You can’t make this stuff up, he really is!)

That, in my estimation, is not nearly enough. There are other things that should be done. While I wait, I might as well share with all of you some of the ideas I’ve had to contribute to the greater glory of the greatest man who ever lived.

Let’s start out with the news coverage. In the last eleven days there have appeared on our television screens, web pages, and newspapers (yes, there are still a few actual newspapers out there!) at least half a dozen stories that have nothing to do with Michael Jackson. It’s true! There was something about a coup in Honduras, as if anybody knows where that is, or cares. Apparently North Korea has launched about a dozen missiles in the general vicinity of Japan. Bor-ing! Seems there is also some sort of situation in Iran, I’m not sure what. President Obama is going to Russia to meet with Sarah Palin, or Putin, or somebody like that. Or maybe Putin resigned as governor of Alaska. Who has time for shit like that when MJ isn’t even in the ground yet? It’s scandalous how much of our time is being wasted scanning these non-MJ headlines before we get to the stories we really want to hear about, such as will Debbie be seeking custody of the kids, and does Jermaine really wish it had been him who died? Shame on you, national media. Let’s keep our priorities straight, okay?

(I exempt entertainment and sports news from this condemnation, of course. No matter the cosmic importance of MJ’s death, we do have to know about the weekly box office winners, the deaths of people like Farrah Fawcett and Ed McMahon, the murder/suicide of ex-quarterback Steve McNair, the latest news on the Gosselin family, results of “American Idol” voting, and anything written by or about Paris or Perez Hilton. After all, life does go on.)

And there’s the little matter of the flags. Every time I pass an American flag flapping insolently at the top of a pole I feel an acute sense of shame. I mean, come on! They should be at half-staff! The standard for the death of a president is a full 30 days. Shouldn’t MJ get at least that long?

Open letter to Pope Benedict XVI: I know that MJ’s religious affiliation is somewhat muddled. He started out as a Jehovah’s Witness (I’ll never forget the time that, as a younger and much blacker man, he knocked on my door and thrust a Watchtower into my astonished, trembling hands!) but they seem to have disowned him, and he them. For a while he was a sort-of Jew, dabbling in Kabalah with Madonna. (Two of his kids are technically Jewish, since Debbie Rowe is of that faith.) There are reports that he found Jesus or converted to Islam with Jermaine in the years before his death. Take your pick. I don’t think anyone ever said he was Catholic … but who cares? You shouldn’t let little details like that bother you, Your Holiness. You really must put Michael on the fast track to canonization, right now! Think of the converts you’d make. Think of how the mass would be enlivened with a few of Saint Michael’s mega-hits on the program instead of that tired old liturgical crap. Think of the young, beautiful, innocent boys who would flock to the Church, as to Neverland. All those golden-haired, wide-eyed, sweet-faced boys with their little Cupid’s-bow mouths and tight little tushies … well, maybe you’d better not think about that, but still. What the Church needs is some newer, hipper saints, saints who can get down!

And Reverend Al, you have the right idea, but you don’t go far enough, IMHO. A national day of mourning, sure—heck, why not a week?—but then we should have an annual national holiday as well. He was born on August 29th.  Let that now and forever be celebrated as a federal holiday. We also need an annual national day of Michael Jackson mourning and remembrance, when we can all stop and spend the day listening to his music, watching his videos and tapes of his concerts, reflecting on his greatness, and repenting that we never appreciated him enough while he was alive. Those so inclined could wear sackcloth and cover their faces in ashes, while scourging themselves with whips. Like MJ said: Beat it!

We should start naming stuff after him. The last time somebody almost this big died—that would be JFK—New York City re-named Idlewild Airport in his honor, and Florida changed the name of Cape Canaveral. We here in Los Angeles have an airport just begging for a name. We all know it as LAX. How lame is that? I propose that from now on we call it the Michael Jackson Inter-Galactic Spaceport. New York City could name the Freedom Tower after him, except it’s beginning to look like it will never be built. And there must be some geographical and geopolitical features that could bear the name of the King of Pop. The Rocky Mountains? The Mississippi River? The Grand Canyon? The city of Chicago? Oh, wait, that's already named for a rock group. Holmby Hills, where he died?

Neverland should be declared a national shrine.

There’s room to the left of George Washington to carve a likeness of MJ on Mount Rushmore. Even better, the incomplete Crazy Horse monument just down the road, which is much bigger, could easily be converted to an image of MJ pointing with a sequin-gloved hand, his other hand holding a microphone to his lips. All it would take is a little dynamite surgery to Crazy Horse’s face … and who more appropriate to facial surgery than MJ?

There has to be a monument. I’m divided on whether it should be in Neverland or on the National Mall in Washington. Maybe both, for east and west coast people to enjoy. We should hold a national competition to design them. Something on the scale of the Washington Monument, or the Statue of Liberty. How about MJ standing with his feet apart, one hand raised high wearing his single star-spangled glove, the other hand cupping his crotch?

Write your congress-person, my fellow Americans. Tell them to stop wasting their time trying to get us out of this economic mess. Nobody believes they can do it, anyway, so why not get to work on the issue that really matters to us?

Later: 8:01 PM. No email with the tickets. Goodbye, cruel world ….

July 6, 2009

Hollywood, California