Rather than stay in and pre-emptively eat our shelling out candy on Friday, Sparta and I took our bad selves to the nearest town with a movie theatre and checked out This Is It.
My Michael Jackson love can be traced back to when I was 2 years old, being pushed through the Eaton Centre in my stroller and gasping "Mom! It's Michael!" My parents couldn't believe it when they walked a little further and realized that sure enough, a store was playing Michael Jackson.
I highly recommend any MJ fans go and see it on a big screen somewhere. It's fascinating to watch him in his element, and to see the way he was always in motion. It's like watching one of those visual soundwave screensaver things. The miniscule perfection and detail in his movements just kills me. And I admit, I spent the duration of the rehearsal footage of "I'll be there," wiping away tears, but for the most part, it was just nice to see him lighting up that stage one more time.
Sparta compared him to some kind of beautiful little tree frog, who couldn't live outside of his natural habitat. A pretty apt description, I thought.
Anyway, he was clearly inspired by the movie as the next night, his strategically pinned bed sheet of a costume kept coming undone as he Thriller-ed his way around the kitchen, waiting for trick-or treaters.
We started the evening as Medusa and some kind of Perseus/Hercules/Jason hybrid and ended it as two licorice and Caramilk bar-filled pinatas laughing ourselves to tears over Mystery Science Theatre 3000 before collapsing into sugar-fueled comas.
All in all, a lovely weekend.
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