Between clanging gongs at the beginning of Beat It my fellow six-year-old cousins and I would strike star poses, fling our hats, and blast fist-pumps to the sky. As the bass kicked in and the songs cranked up, we’d grab our crotches and form sweaty circles around each other for blazing solo dances, rocking out to Thriller and Billie Jean under flickering fluorescent lights in the hot basement. Energy buzzed through our veins as we closed our eyes, spun in circles, and danced loud and long into the night.
We’ll miss you, Michael. Thank you for showing us the power of passion. Thank you for being
Photo from: here