As the circumstances surrounding Michael Jackson’s death begin to pour in, we get a view of one of the realities of Hollywood that I learned from one of the interviews in my book. That reality? That when it comes to celebrities, no one speaks truth to them. No one tells them “no, don’t do that.” Or, “you can’t do that.” No one.

“Real friends give you boundaries. When you don’t have boundaries, it creeps into your choices in movies and life. If nobody around you tells you the truth, you end up doing all kinds of stupid shit.“  –Writer/Comedian, interviewed in I Followed My Bliss to Bankruptcy–What I Wish I Knew Before I Moved to Hollywood.

Michael Jackson is the personification of the Hollywood dichotomy. So many people want the fame and fortune, yet often,  being known by everyone results in being known by no one. No friends to tell you “no.”

Michael Jackson was a father who, by all accounts, loved his children dearly. But it was revealed this morning that one of Jackson’s professional acquaintances was responsible for giving the news of his death to his children. Not a family member, a professional acquaintance. Wow. Welcome to fame and fortune.

We’re also learning that Michael had a private doctor who may have injected him with something or prescribed medications that may have harmed his health as well.  Perhaps a private doctor was necessary for Michael as it certainly seems that he couldn’t very well go to the office for a visit. And certainly it can’t be in that doctor’s interest to harm his only, or at least most famous patient and utterly ruin his own reputation for the rest of his life, but the details are yet to surface. Who knows what ways the fame of a patient effects a doctors judgment? Perhaps doctors are just as vulnerable as others to the charisma and proximity of fame.

Meanwhile, it is being reported that Michael Jackson may be as much five hundred million dollars in debt. That’s as much as Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld got for the syndication rights to Seinfeld. Even Oprah would take a couple years salary to pay that off. But for the rest of  us half a billion dollars won’t be seen in a lifetime of hard labor. Yet Michael Jackson, as half owner of the Sony Music Catalog, got paid every time a Beatles song played on the radio anywhere in the world.

How’s it possible that a man of those means could be in that much debt? Well, it was reported this morning that Sony was concerned about Michael’s financial condition and worried he might sell his portion of the catalog to someone with competing interest, so Sony did what it could to ensure that Michael got as many loans as he needed.

Loans? Interesting. Loans brought down the banks, the American economy and nearly the world’s. It is sad that the King of Pop was living in a rented mansion and nearly buried beneath a mountain of debt, but this is Hollywood. And in Hollywood, nothing is as it seems.

“People love me for my music, my talent…but they don’t really love me.” –Michael Jackson

T.R. Locke

I can’t even believe it’s possible. I still think it’s a publicity stunt for his new tour. I fully expect for him to pop up somewhere or to learn that it was just one of his clones that passed away. How many people imitated this man? Every known major pop performer in the world at least. It has to be an imitator right? Why can’t this be an imitator?

Some part of my own life has passed away. I don’t think I’m alone in this feeling. There is this sense of mortality when one who seems so immortal passes away. Remember his concerts in the 80s-90s? Live from Bucharest? My God! Men and women, boys and girls fainted cold looking at him. There is no man on this planet that had that level of power in my life. They say Elvis and the Beatles had it, but not in my lifetime. Michael Jackson was the closest thing to a living god we’ve ever seen in our lifetimes.

I remember his court cases–any public appearance–he was always followed by a huge entourage of SUVs trailing him from the beginning of his trip to the end of it. The moment he appeared from inside the darkened cavern he was worshipped. In some ways, we see these superstars as immortal. They aren’t supposed to die. Even now, as I write this, Michael is dancing across my TV screen as he always has. And he will keep dancing and singing.

When I first heard he was in the hospital, I told my daughter that there will be a throng outside the hospital playing his songs and praying for him. There was. When I heard he died, I didn’t believe it anymore than anyone else did. I still don’t. Michael’s promoting his tour. Watch. Ticket sales will go through the roof!

Weeks will pass and we will still not believe it. We will sing his songs and watch his videos and have him just as close to us as he’s always been. And someone will inevitably ask, “what does this mean?” It means we’re all mortal–stars or not. Today we witnessed a supernova–we will feel its effects for years to come. We will miss you Michael.

T.R. Locke