Michael Jackson

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  Three months went by, and Lisa joined him again in South Africa in October. This time Lisa stepped off the plane with a shock of blonde hair, moderately resembling the shade of Debbie’s hair. During this trip, she made a concerted effort to ‘weasel’ her way (as she later put it) into his busy days.

  Lisa and Michael, and his parents, son and her children, all stayed at the Palace Hotel in the centre of Johannesburg. The former couple was seen holding hands and beaming at one another. Yet, beneath the veneer of her pleasant smiles, Lisa had begun to grow uncomfortable with the new Michael Jackson. While he was not nearly as troubled as he had been during her reign in his life, some of the changes she saw in him bothered her.

  For one thing, the vulnerability that he had before, born maybe of paranoia or an impending sense of doom, had now been replaced with a kind of bravado. It appeared that Michael felt invincible. A particularly troubling fact for Lisa was the appearance of a thirteen-year-old Norwegian boy. He was a cute kid who wore a red baseball cap all the time, given to him by Michael. His presence, even if it was innocent, was disconcerting. Did Michael still not realize how dangerous it was for him, in terms of his public image, to have young boys with him on tour?

  On Friday 10 October, Michael performed before 47,000 people at Johannesburg Stadium. Afterward, Lisa spent hours backstage with Michael. During that time together, she attempted to raise the topic of Michael’s new friend. The appearance of impropriety was something that she felt had to be addressed. Yet, Michael made it clear to her that the issue would not be discussed. It seemed he no longer required, or at least welcomed, her counsel.

  It had been the self-doubting, vulnerable part of Michael Jackson that had always been the bridge between him and Lisa Marie Presley. Now, without that part intact, and with the bridge of their sexual compatibility also broken down, Lisa felt not just powerless, she also felt like an outsider.

  The next day, Lisa and her children were on hand for the formal ceremony when Michael was made an honorary member of an African tribe, Bafokeng Ka Bakwena (People of the Crocodile). The 300,000-strong Bafokeng is regarded as one of the richest in the country due to its ownership of the world’s second-largest platinum reserve. Katherine and Joseph, who met the tribe a few days before, were also given ‘citizenship’ certificates.

  Dressed in a military-style jacket adorned with gold badges on the chest and arms, Michael walked slowly through a crowd of native women and children in the town of Phokeng, ninety miles northwest of Johannesburg, after the ceremony. With Lisa clutching his arm proudly, Michael smiling benevolently and touched the hands of his admirers as if he was visiting royalty. At all times an aide carried a blue-and-yellow umbrella to provide shade for him and Lisa.

  That afternoon, Michael and Lisa went water-skiing at South Africa’s Sun City resort. Then, that night they had dinner with Katherine at the resort. During the meal, they applauded as youngsters dressed in leopard skin tribal garb performed for them.

  The next day, Michael rehearsed for his concert at Johannesburg Stadium. Lisa, with her plans to depart already made, watched from backstage, waiting for Michael to finish so she could say her ‘goodbyes’.

  A small coterie of people watched Michael as he and the dancers rehearsed ‘Thriller’. In the middle of the song, he halted the performance. ‘Hold it, guys,’ he said. ‘That’s all wrong. It goes like this. Watch.’ He then glided across the stage effortlessly, as if on air, thereby demonstrating the correct moves for his troupe. Katherine, who was standing with Lisa, beamed.

  ‘When I think of how bad it got with those damn lies, and how far he has come since then, I have to cry,’ Katherine said, not taking her eyes off her son. ‘He was almost destroyed. Now, just watch him, he’s so darn good.’ She then put her arm around Lisa and gave her a warm look. ‘And it’s because of you that he got through it. Do you know that? Do you know how much we appreciate what you did for him?’

  Lisa smiled dimly and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know if I helped, or not,’ she told Katherine, modestly. ‘I did love him. That I know. But, face it, Katherine, your son is one big mystery.’

  Katherine tilted her head back and laughed. ‘Girl, tell me about it,’ she exclaimed.

  Michael came off the stage just as the two women were sharing their conspiratorial moment. ‘Now, what are you two gossiping about?’ he asked, good-naturedly.

  ‘You!’ they both said, in unison.

  He executed a quick, soft shoe routine, made a funny face at them, and went back to work.

  Lost Love

  In November 1997, Debbie Rowe announced that she was pregnant with a girl, her second ‘gift’ to Michael. This was the child they said had been conceived in Paris. Michael was elated. At this time, he bought her a new house in Los Angeles. She moved in with her two pet dogs, and seemed happy with her life.

  Michael anxiously prepared himself for the birth of another baby, excited to see his family grow. Though he and Debbie still did not live together – and never would – they got along well. She was his friend – the one who had his children. The other woman in his life, Lisa Marie Presley, was still the one who had his heart, and Debbie knew it. ‘She told me that Michael had Lisa’s picture in his bedroom, on his nightstand,’ said Tanya Boyd. ‘Debbie never had any misguided notion that Michael was in love with her, and she’s never been in love with him either, I don’t think. “What he has with Lisa, now that’s true love,” Debbie told me. “I have always known it,” she said. “I’ve never fought it. I’ve only encouraged it.” She never wanted to come between Lisa and Michael. “If Lisa would have had his children,” she told me, “I never would have done it for him. There would have been no reason for it.”’

  On Saturday, 7 February 1998, Michael got together with Lisa for dinner at the Ivy in Los Angeles. He had telephoned her and said he wanted to take her out for her thirtieth birthday, which had been about a week earlier.

  They arrived at the restaurant holding hands. Michael wore a black hat and matching surgical mask, Lisa a dark blue dress with a gold choker. Because they didn’t have a reservation, the manager took them into his office and served them drinks while they waited for a table in a quiet, romantic corner. Once seated, Lisa enjoyed a plate of steamed vegetables. Michael ate crab cakes and fried chicken. However, he slipped the food underneath his mask, rather than take it off. One wonders what it might be like to sit across the table from a person who is eating while wearing a surgical mask. ‘Once you get past the preposterousness of it,’ Lisa explained, privately, ‘and decide in your head, okay, now, look, the guy is not going to take the mask off…’

  For dessert, they shared a piece of cake, decorated with a single candle – which Lisa happily blew out. ‘How’s it going with Debbie?’ Lisa wanted to know, according to what she later recalled to a friend.

  Half-heartedly, Michael said it was ‘okay’ with his wife. He had another glass of red wine, his fourth. He told her that as much as he cared for Debbie, when he was with her, ‘I focus on what I don’t have, instead of what I do have. I just want to be in love. Like what you and I had. I was so afraid,’ he told her, according to her memory. ‘I know now that I closed you out. What can I do now?’

  Lisa says that she didn’t respond. She no longer had the answers to his problems – not that she ever did – or the solution to his life. There wasn’t much she could propose, except perhaps the most basic of offerings between two people with a history who still care about each other. ‘I want you to know,’ she told him, ‘that if you ever need a friend, I’m here for you. You have such a good heart, Michael,’ she added. ‘But, dude, tell me this: why do you have to be so fucking strange?‘

  The two dissolved into laughter, probably realizing that there was no simple answer to that question.

  After dinner, they strolled down Robertson Boulevard in Beverly Hills, window shopping under the watchful eye of paparazzi. At one point, Michael kissed the top of her head and put two fingers under her chin, li
fting it so her eyes would meet his. His arms closed around her, enveloping her. They kissed through his silk mask, as if he was some kind of comic book super hero and it made all the sense in the world. She then snuggled against him. A paparazzo memorialized the tender moment, the photographs appearing five days later in a tabloid.

  Later, they were driven to Santa Monica for a long walk on the beach, talking late into the night.

  ‘I love her,’ Michael told one of his associates the next day, ‘more than anything, more than anyone, I still love Lisa. We have such a strong connection.’ His eyes filled with tears. ‘That was my one shot, man,’ he said. ‘I did a lot of foolish things. I may never get another shot, you know?’

  ‘In another world, we would be together,’ Lisa would say, ‘just not in his world, I’m afraid.’

  Two months later, Michael was the father of a new daughter.

  Paris Katherine Michael Jackson was born on 3 April 1998 (named after the city in which her parents say the baby was conceived, and also after her grandmother and her father). Michael’s associates contacted the Pope at the Vatican in Rome about the possibility of his christening the baby. However, a Vatican official sent a letter to Michael through his representation in Los Angeles explaining that The Pontiff would not want to be involved in ‘what may be perceived by some as a publicity stunt’. (The Vatican had already been down this same road with Madonna a few years earlier when she attempted to have the Pope baptize her first child, Lourdes, but was also turned away.)

  When their ‘arrangement’ no longer felt right to Debbie, she asked for a divorce, and he gave her one on 8 October 1999, no questions asked. He gave her about ten million dollars in a settlement, beginning with a first payment of $1.5 million in October.

  Michael continued with his life and career in 2000 and 2001 – as noted later in this text. Then, another baby was born to him in 2002, a boy he named Prince Michael II. He has told confidants that he hopes to have more children in the future, and that all of the boys will be named Prince Michael (III, IV, etc…).

  Prince Michael II has the nickname ‘Blanket’. Michael has explained, ‘It’s an expression I use with my family and my employees. I say, “You should blanket me or you should blanket her,” meaning like a blanket is a blessing. It’s a way of showing love and caring.’ It was this particular child, nine months at the time, whom Michael dangled off a balcony in Germany in November 2002, causing a flood of editorials speculating about his emotional stability and suitability for fatherhood. Michael was bewildered by his own actions and distraught by the media coverage. He was also embarrassed; what would his friends and family think? He publicly apologized for his behaviour, saying that he became caught up ‘in the moment’.

  Afterwards, Michael received a letter from Elizabeth Taylor, dated 19 December 2002, which lifted his spirits. ‘Don’t ever let them [the public] get you down, Michael. You’re loved by too many, especially this kid. I love you just as much as I always have and understand you just as much as I always have. Don’t hide. You haven’t done anything to be ashamed of. Be proud of how you are bringing up your children. God knows I am. I love you with all my heart, and because I know you so well. I will always understand where others may not. But, you know something: screw the others. All my love, Elizabeth.’

  Michael has not revealed the identity of the mother of his third child. He would explain that the two older children were ‘a natural conception’ – meaning, he said, that he and Debbie had sex – and that the new baby was the result of artificial insemination. ‘I used a surrogate mother and my own sperm cells,’ he explained. ‘She doesn’t know me and I don’t know her. I didn’t care what race she was as long as she was healthy and her vision was good. And her intellect – I wanted to know how intelligent she is.’ He first noted that the mother was a black woman, then later changed the story and said he didn’t know her identity. Prince Michael II is very blond. Debbie had confirmed that the child is not hers. If he knows who the mother is, he has decided not to reveal her name.

  The Martin Bashir Documentary

  In February 2003, another strange chapter in Michael’s life opened with the highly controversial documentary, Living with Michael Jackson, which first attracted fifteen million viewers in the United Kingdom and more than double that in the United States. The programme made excitable headlines on both sides of the Atlantic for its subject, Michael, and interviewer/presenter, Martin Bashir.

  Prior to the Michael Jackson interview, Martin Bashir was most famous for his 1995 television dissection of Diana, Princess of Wales. Almost twenty-three million people watched her confess royal unhappiness about her difficult marriage to Prince Charles, his relationship to Camilla Parker Bowles and the complex, personal embarrassment Diana called ‘three in a marriage’. Soon after, the Queen urged Charles and Diana to divorce. Because Diana had won global sympathy with her interview, Michael believed Martin when he presented himself as ‘the man who turned Diana’s life around’. Actually, if he had examined the history of the Diana documentary, he would have found that it didn’t help her. As she revealed details of her tragic recent life in a halting, hypnotic voice, it was as if she had decided to self-destruct, and do it on television. During her interviews, she seemed distant, aloof and damaged. To her advantage, though, she was the victim of certain challenges, such as eating disorders and marital discord, which could, at least, be understandable to the viewer. There was no way she would be viewed as a freak of nature. Instead, she appeared to be a sad woman whose life had spun out of control – and was still spinning, in fact – and who had decided to just come clean with it. However, Michael Jackson – with his plastic surgeries, babies with no maternal presence and intense fascination with youngsters – took a greater risk when he decided to allow Martin Bashir into the environment his first wife called his ‘world of wonder’.

  After his Diana extravaganza, Martin Bashir won an award from the British Academy of Film and Television Arts and was named the Royal Television Society’s Journalist of the Year for 1996. He subsequently landed other high-profile interviews, including one with anguished gay British actor-comedian Michael Barrymore, in the news after the drowning of a young man during a party at his house.

  Martin courted Michael Jackson for five years, trying to convince him to participate in the documentary. Finally, after being recommended by Michael’s friend, the paranormalist Uri Geller, Martin was given an audience with Michael, during which he was able to convince him to cooperate. Michael then allowed him total access to his life for eight months, despite the fact that his advisers felt that such cooperation would not bode well for him. Martin Bashir spent time at Neverland in California, and travelled across the United States and Europe with Michael. (Uri would later regret having ever introduced Michael to Martin.)

  The most interesting aspect of the documentary is not what it revealed, though much of it was astounding. What fascinates about Living with Michael Jackson is that its subject ever allowed it to be filmed, which suggests that Michael either still does not understand how he is perceived by much of the public or that he doesn’t care. He truly believed, according to those who know him best, that it was a savvy public relations manoeuvre, to allow a stranger to document his world from an outside view point and in a way that would prevent Michael from having control over the final content. He wasn’t thinking clearly about it. He thought it was a cool thing to do because Diana had done it, and he felt sure that the public would be interested in his life. He never imagined anyone would be shocked by it because he simply does not think he or his life is shocking.

  Some in Michael’s camp – like John Branca, it was said – never believed the project would be completed. Like many entertainers, Michael involves himself in many projects that never get past the developmental stage, and it was hoped that this one would be another on that list. Such a project would surely never have been released in days-long-gone when others had influence over him.

  Some supporters of Michae
l’s have tried to spin the Martin Bashir documentary as a positive in the star’s life, saying that he presented a sympathetic image of himself in it. Of course, while watching him discuss the beatings he endured by his father, one’s heart went out to him. Michael recalled that Joseph sat in a chair as the boys rehearsed, ‘and he had this belt in his hand. If you didn’t do it the right way, he would tear you up, really get you. It was bad. Real bad.’ He is still traumatized by his childhood and it doesn’t appear that he has come to terms with much of it. However, that said, most of the rest of the 110 minutes made Michael appear to be about as eccentric a character as pop culture has ever produced.

  For instance, his description of Paris’s birth: ‘I was so anxious to get her home after cutting the cord – I hate to say this – I snatched her and just went home with all the placenta and everything all over her. I just got her in a towel and ran.’

  Privately, Debbie Rowe takes the absurdity to a new level by confirming that Michael had the placenta frozen! (Of course he did, one might observe. How else could he keep it?)

  Michael’s constant complaining about sensational tabloid coverage of his life seems irrelevant when his actions are jaw-dropping enough to provide true material to such publications. ‘Wacko-Jacko Kidnaps His Own baby Just Hours After Birth’, screamed the front-page headline in Star in April 1998. (‘He just snatched the kid away from her.’) ‘Jacko Snatches Baby Minutes After Birth’ blared the headline in National Enquirer that same week. (‘Michael gave Debbie a peck on the check, took Paris in his arms and whisked her off.’) Who would have believed these stories? However, even the writers of those articles may have thought it a leap to report that Michael had the placenta frozen; that would have been too much of a stretch even for them!