PYT, Indeed

05.20.84

It was a rare, storm-free day in Okarche on this particular spring day in 1984. It was also my 8th birthday. For whatever reason, I had decided to send 7 out with a bang & invited all of the girls in my class over for a slumber party. Now the population in Okarche in 1984 was well under the 1,147 it is now, so we're talking a fairly small group of girls here. In 1984, Micheal Jackson was King. I had this poster of him above my bed & all I wanted for my birthday was more Micheal Jackson. My parents came through. They not only got me my two first cassette tapes (Thriller & the Footloose soundtrack), they also got me a totally rad, yellow, battery-operated, Sony cassette tape player, with a handle.

Now this may come as a surprise to some of you, but I've always been a little bit... bossy. I know, I know. These poor girls thought they were in for a night of pizza, cake, maybe some ghost stories, etc. They had no idea. Unbeknownst to them, they were in the presence of a miniature Paula Abdul in the making. I had been watching, nay studying, Mtv for weeks, preparing for this night. I had a plan & by God, they were going to do what I told them.

I had opened all of my presents. It was time to get down to business. I adjusted my "Beat It" button, grabbed my aforementioned Sony cassette player & marched my troops out to the front yard. I assembled them by height & dance skill (bad dancers in the back). We went over the routine a few times, then... we danced. We danced like our lives depended on it, or at least I did.

It should be noted that our house was on the main thoroughfare, so everyone driving through town that fateful night saw a yard full of 8 year olds performing various gyrations and pelvic thrusts, sometimes accompanied by failed attempts at synchronized snapping.

It was my best birthday to date, and it was all made possible by one Micheal Jackson. RIP.....