‘Cause this is thriller, thriller night
And no one’s gonna save you from the beast about to strike
You know it’s thriller, thriller night
You’re fighting for you life inside a killer, thriller night
Don’t you love Mr. Jackson’s desert-glam Barbie Jeep? I know, the pink fringe is all sorts of fierce. And that tiered white frock? The King of Pop makes summer-to-fall fashion look so easy. Even NYT’s Bill Cunningham would be impressed.
Yes, my dear readers, this is indeed a Michael Jackson Barbie doll. It is, of course, the Thriller edition complete with the red leather getup, silver glove, white socks, black shoes and a microphone, all of which have been lost in the abyss of Barbie parties long past. Barbie couldn’t have asked for a cooler manfriend, really. And we all know Ken was so….blonde.
This little trip down memory lane is brought to you by my mother and her pending move into a smaller dojo. I was horrified (think Michael’s girl in the Thriller video) when she told me that I needed to come clean out my corner of the basement, which she had graciously let me occupy with tons of
shit stuff spanning my 32 years. So horrified that I truly wanted to convince her that her new homestead wasn’t her style. Yes, this earned me a horrible daughter merit badge.
There were boxes of elementary, middle school, high school, college, AND grad school ephemera. Thousands of photos. Chotchkies from each and every bedroom I called my own. It was obvious after the 8th box that unicorns and carousels rocked my world for quite some time. There were also a few clothing items, all shocking in their itty-bitty sizes and complete awesomeness. Biker jacket, fur collar, with “Angel” emblazoned on the back. Yesssss. Not surprisingly, this gem did NOT go in the trash as my future spawn will need to see how utterly cool their Mom was even at the tender age of seven.
What other gems were stowed away, you ask? Prepare yourselves.
The very first iPod, folks, aka a Pocket Rocker. And it still works. Favorite mini-tape in the collection? A close tie between Walk Like An Egyptian/Manic Monday and La Bamba/Tequilla. I specifically remember belting out some of these epic tunes in my Smurf teepee.
Gah, to be a kid again.
Hugs and kisses to my Mom for forcing open my toy box of childhood memories.
How about we turn this Sunday-funday into a dance party? ‘Cause this is thriller!