Ugh! Jacko is from my hometown

by David Grand
December 4, 2003

No, "it's not New Orleans, New York, Paris France, or Rome- but Gary Indiana, my home sweet home." Some of you may recall that line from the song of that name in Meredith Willson's 1957 musical comedy "The Music Man." It starred Robert Preston as Prof. Harold Hill, a flim- flamming salesman of make-believe, band instruments from Gary; and that golden-throated, songstress Shirley Jones, as a prissy librarian in that one-horse town of River City, Iowa.

Well, I don't know if I'd consider that rough-and-tumble, steel town "my sweet home." But I do have a warm spot in my heart for Gary, a place Walter Winchell once described as "the melting pot of the world," consisting as it did in its boom years of as many ethnic groups as Heintz's "57 products."

And I would add, with no less than 300 bars. For many steelworkers would routinely gulp a few beers down, and have a "boilermaker" (putting a shot of whiskey and a raw egg into their glass), before heading to those grimy steel mills that were as hot as a draft from hell. (And Michael Jackson's dad was among 'em.)

It's mainly, however, because of the memories I have of my father, who'd lived there his whole life that endears me to that town. He was one of its most respected and beloved citizens for giving so much of himself in promoting charity drives and in organizing vets of WW 1; and in delighting audiences with his rich, baritone voice at minstrel shows and public events. 

And among those who brought pride to the city (not shame as the King of Pop has) were: Carl Malden (who'd changed his name from Maldeneski), who starred in that TV series "The Streets of San Francisco," and as a co-star in the 1954 Academy Award movie "On the Waterfront;" Tony Zale (originally Zaleski), who was the middleweight champion In the 1940s, whose three fights with Rocky Graziano are legendary in boxing history; Tom Harmon, an All-American halfback at Michigan University, and Heisman trophy winner in 1941; Alex Karras, who was an "All Pro" tackle with the Detroit Lions, later acting in several movies; and William A. Wirt, superintendent of schools from 1906 to 1938, who is recognized nationally for developing the 20th century's work-study-play system of education. (By coincidence, both Malden and Karras graduated from the same school (Emerson) as I did. Malden several years before me, and Karras (who weighed- in at 270 pounds even back then) a couple years later.

Now, even though I've never been a fan of Michael Jackson, I at first admired how, after growing up on "the other side of the tracks" in that segregated town of the time, and coming from a reputedly dysfunctional family, he succeeded in achieving such worldwide acclaim for his songs, and dancing on stage like a Mexican jumping bean. But his freakish-looking, facial appearance of today (having had as many "face jobs" as the former host of American Bandstand Dick Clark) bears no resemblance to the bright, sparkling face I remember when he began his career as the youngest brother in the "Jackson 5." (My five sons carry a tune as well as a mouse carries an elephant.)

However, his ardent fans who worship the ground he walks on view his bizarre appearance and behavior as "Michael just being Michael." And their loyalty to him remains as unshakable as the Rock of Gibraltar, even in light of the recent accusations made against him of sexually abusing a 12-year-old at his Neverland estate. (Couldn't find that word in the dictionary. But I found a "never-never land," where Peter Pan flew through the air. Something Jacko can't do, no matter how high he jumps while performing.)

But regardless of the outcome of his trial (if and when it takes place), his standing as a icon in the world of pop music will fall like Humpty Dumpty from the wall. And if he's found guilty of the charges (which is unlikely as Kobe Bryant receiving a guilty verdict) and has to serve some "hard-time" in prison, he could at least while away the months (or years) writing songs and organizing a song-and-dance group. Provided, of course, he wasn't segregated from the rest of the prison population as he was in Gary.