Michael Jackson (48 page)

‘But I can't.’

‘Why not?’ Janet asked.

‘Because I don't want to hurt her feelings,’ Michael explained. Visibly cringing, he then went back into the living room.

A few moments later he rejoined his sisters, wearing a sheepish grin.

‘Well?’ LaToya asked.

‘I'm taking her,’ Michael said, sounding defeated. How ironic that the pop star who had not been intimidated by record business
honchos Berry Gordy and Walter Yetnikoff had been hectored by Brooke Shields into doing what he did not want to do.

Months later, Michael and his employee Steve Howell were reviewing photographs from the awards show. One was of him with Brooke
Shields. ‘What's she like?’ Howell asked.

‘Oh, she's okay,’ Michael said, nonchalantly. ‘But I only took her to help her out,’ he added. ‘There was no romance. All
of this was strictly for her, for the sake of publicity.’

Indeed, when Michael and Brooke arrived in a white Rolls-Royce just moments before the ceremony began, there was such hysteria
from the fans one might have thought they were visiting royals. Poor Tatum O'Neal was at the entrance door with four friends,
watching the madness. Michael, Brooke and a coterie of security guards rushed right by her. ‘Michael. Hey, Michael!’ Tatum
shouted. Too late. He was gone. She turned to her friends. ‘I'll introduce you to him later. I promise/

Michael, wearing heavy pancake makeup and loads of eyeliner, sat in the theatre's front row with Brooke and Emmanuel Lewis,
who had met them there. Brooke seemed uncomfortable about having to share her date with a twelve-year-old. Earlier, when photographers
descended upon them, Michael held Emmanuel with one arm and hugged Brooke with his free hand. It was as if he was trying to
remind Brooke – and maybe the public – that the presence of a child on their date meant that he really wasn't serious about her.
‘Let's get out of here,’ Brooke was heard saying to Michael. ‘People are making fun of us.’

During the ceremony, cheers rose from fans in the balcony and from industry colleagues who filled the orchestra seats every
time Michael's face flashed on the studio monitors or his name was even mentioned. When the two Pepsi commercials ‘premiered’,
the audience reacted with a tidal wave of applause and whistles. It was obvious that he was the man of the moment, and before
he had even won a single award. Comedienne Joan Rivers noted in an explanation of how the votes were tabulated, ‘The reason
we're reading the rules is so that all the losers will know why they lost to Michael Jackson.’

That night, Michael made Grammy history when he won eight awards out of a possible ten wins on twelve nominations (three of
his nominations were in one category).

Not since the brilliant maturation of Motown's Stevie Wonder in the mid-seventies (he won five Grammys in 1973 and 1974) had
the public, press, and industry – three factions that seldom see eye-to-eye on anything – agreed so wholeheartedly on an entertainer's
importance to our pop culture. In a sense, the unanimous recognition of Michael Jackson at the Shrine Auditorium meant that
fans, critics and voters had agreed on a new pop music king.

Accepting the Best Album award for
Thriller
(which, by this time, had sold twenty-seven million records, was the biggest-selling album in history and still number one
on the
Billboard
charts), a nervous and shy Michael said, ‘This is a great honour. I'm very happy.’

When he later picked up the seventh and record-breaking Grammy, he took off his dark glasses in a victory salute – ‘for the
girls in the balcony’. Katharine Hepburn (‘my dear friend’) had scolded Michael for wearing the shades at the American Music
Awards and told him he was ‘cheating’ his fans by not allowing them to see his eyes.

Michael accepted one award with the comment, ‘I have something very important to say… really,’ and proceeded to pay touching
tribute to legendary rhythm-and-blues star Jackie Wilson, who had recently died.

Jackie was one of Michael's show-business idols. After suffering a heart attack onstage in New Jersey in 1975, Jackie lay
in a helpless, practically vegetative condition in a nursing home. All of the Jackson children went to visit him one day in
1977. His primary caretaker was Joyce McCrae, who would go on to work for Joseph Jackson Productions. She was Gina Sprague's
nemesis in the work place. Jackie couldn't speak; he could only blink once for no and twice for yes. All of the Jackson siblings
were gathered around his bedside, trying not to cry, as Joyce introduced them, one by one. When she got to Michael, Jackie
smiled and blinked twice. McCrae recalled, ‘There was a happiness on his face that was just so precious, so deep, and so moving.
He was so glad they were there. It was a special moment.’

Michael also won Best Record (‘Beat It’) and Best Vocalist in three areas: pop (‘Beat It’), rock (‘Thriller’) and rhythm and
blues (‘Billie Jean’). He also won Best Children's Album (
E.T.
), Best Rhythm-and-Blues Song (‘Billie Jean’) and Best Record Producer, an award he shared with Quincy Jones. Jackson's two
losses were to The Police, who copped three Grammys in all for the
Synchronicity
album and the single ‘Every Breath You Take’. All told, his eight wins topped Paul Simon's previous record of seven in a
year, earned in a 1970 sweep for
Bridge over Troubled Water.

In one acceptance, he called CBS head Walter Yetnikoff to the stage with him. Later, he invited LaToya, Janet and Rebbie to
join him.

Backstage, after the awards, Michael didn't have much to say to the press. It had already been made clear to the media that
he would not be available for interviews – he would allow photos only. The assembled media, having been deprived of the opportunity
to ask Michael questions about his winnings, had no choice but to ask all of the other winners how
they
felt about Michael's achievement. ‘I've seen four phenomena in my lifetime: Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, The Beatles and
Michael Jackson,’ Quincy Jones noted.

‘What's your favourite song?’ someone shouted out to Michael as he walked away.

‘ “My Favourite Things” by Julie Andrews,’ Michael responded.

‘You're kidding, right?’ the reporter asked.

‘Nope.’ Michael started singing the song, ‘Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens…’ while he skipped down the hall, accompanied
by four security men. As he left the auditorium with Brooke and Emmanuel, fifty people were elbowed out of his way by his
guards – including Tatum O'Neal and her four friends. ‘I'll introduce you to him later,’ she promised them, again. As Michael's
Rolls-Royce sped away from the auditorium, he rolled down the window and leaned out, both arms raised in triumph, clutching
and waving a Grammy in one hand. ‘All right!’ he yelled out. ‘All
right
!’

Michael Jackson had become one of the most sought-after celebrities in Hollywood, always invited to a multitude of A-list
parties. Often he needed an escort and, uncomfortable in his new role as a social butterfly, he sought someone safe – and older.
Liza Minnelli was one of his favourites, partly because Michael had always been fascinated by the mystique of her mother,
Judy Garland, but also because Liza had grown up in Hollywood, knew her way around, and was able to keep Michael comfortable
and relaxed.

Besides, in 1984 it was Liza, not Michael, who received the coveted invitation to the 10 April party hosted by famed literary
agent, Irving ‘Swifty’ Lazar. Held every year right after the Academy Awards, the event had once been so prestigious that
even big-name stars considered it an honour to be invited. Celebrities often instructed their publicists to hound ‘Swifty’
for months in advance for an invitation. In 1984, the party was held at the Bistro in Beverly Hills. Guests included Orson
Welles, Cary Grant, Jacqueline Bisset and Linda Evans.

It was obvious that no matter how famous Michael had become, in his heart he was just another star-struck fan. Judging from
the expression on his face, his success didn't diminish his awe, but it did allow him to observe his idols up close. In return,
the celebs fell all over themselves for a chance to meet Michael, a guy who had made only one movie (and that one a flop!).

Michael never strayed from Liza's side. Wearing one of his blue glitter military outfits, dark aviator shades, and the requisite
rhinestoned glove, Michael looked around the room and probably couldn't help noticing that everyone was gawking at him. For
her part, Liza strolled about proudly with Michael on her arm, as if to say, Yes,
I'm
with Michael Jackson. What do you think of
that?

‘Let me have a scotch and Coca-Cola,’ Liza instructed the waiter. ‘And Mr Jackson will have the same.’

‘Oh, no,’ Michael protested. ‘I'll have a…’ He hesitated. ‘I'll have an orange juice, please.’

‘Oh, of course he will,’ Liza said. ‘And so will I. With
scotch
.’ She laughed merrily.

The waiter walked away. ‘Yoo-hoo,’ Michael meekly called out after him. ‘No scotch in mine.’

Joan Collins sauntered over to the couple. ‘Michael, my dear boy, how truly wonderful to see you.’ She embraced him warmly
and winked at Liza, as if sharing a joke with her. Michael looked confused.

‘Quick, stand right next to him; let's get a picture.’ A woman shoved her husband next to Michael. ‘This is for our daughter,
Natasha,’ the man sheepishly explained. Michael, who has no doubt heard a similar line a thousand times before, nodded patiently.

‘Oh, by the way, my name is Michael Caine,’ said the actor after the photo was taken. The two shook hands as Caine's wife,
Shakira, snapped another picture of them.

Joan Collins turned to a friend. ‘You know, I must get the name of his plastic surgeon,’ she said. ‘I simply
adore
his nose, don't you?’

Johnny Carson, seated with his girlfriend Alexis Mass, took in the scene and walked over to Michael just as his orange juice
was being served to him.

‘Nice to see you, Michael,’ Carson said with a firm handshake.

Michael seemed dazed. ‘I… uh, gee, nice to see you again too, Mr Carson.’

‘Call me John.’

‘Oh, okay. Call me Mike.’

Liza Minnelli grabbed Michael's hand. ‘Now look, Johnny, he's
my
date,’ she told Carson with a big smile.

‘Wow! What a nice guy that Johnny Carson is,’ Michael was overheard saying as Liza dragged him away.

‘Oh, yes, he's a dear,’ she agreed. ‘Now we're going to call my father.’

‘We are?’

Liza then led Michael off to a payphone.

After Liza dialled the number, she began doing a soft-shoe dance routine and started singing, ‘Forget your troubles, c'mon
get happy,’ she sang. She was feeling…good.

Michael laughed. ‘I love being around you, you know that?’ he told her.

‘
Shhh
,’ Liza said. Her father answered the phone. ‘Daddy, listen, I want you to meet Michael Jackson.’

‘Who?’ was apparently the question back to her.

‘Why, he's a
wonderful
singer and one of my
best
friends,’ she explained. ‘Now just say hello.’ A pause. ‘Oh, Daddy, just say hello. Now,
c'mon
’

She handed the phone to Michael. ‘No, I can't,’ Michael protested, his hand over the mouthpiece.

‘Oh, but you
must
’ Liza insisted.

‘But he's my idol.’ Michael had always enjoyed director Vincente Minnelli's films.

‘Well, then say
hello
.’ Liza punched him on the arm playfully. ‘He doesn't bite.’

Michael took his hand off the mouthpiece. ‘Hello, Mr Minnelli,’ he whispered. He listened for five seconds, his eyes darting
left and right. With a giggle, he handed the phone back to Liza. ‘God, he's so
nice
,’ Michael gushed.

Liza got back on the phone. ‘Now listen, Daddy. Put on your velvet jacket. We'll be over in twenty minutes.’

Pause.

‘Yes, I'm bringing
him
over
there
.’

A pause.

‘Never mind what he's wearing.’

Another pause.

‘Okay, he's wearing one sequined glove, all right? Now, are you satisfied?’

Michael doubled over, laughing.

‘Okay, then fine. Goodbye.’

As Liza and Michael pushed through the crowd and out the door to the waiting limousine, Jimmy Stewart was overheard saying,
‘Well, there they go, Dorothy's little girl… and the Wiz.’

Almost twenty years later, ‘the Wiz’ would be part of the star-studded wedding party when ‘Dorothy's little girl’ married
for a fourth time, in New York. Michael was best man and Elizabeth Taylor the matron of honour when, in March 2002, Liza wed
David Gest in a well-publicized, star-studded extravaganza. Unfortunately, the union would end after sixteen tumultuous months.

The upcoming Victory tour promised forty concert dates and, at least as far as Michael was concerned, forty million opportunities
for something to go wrong as long as Don King was in the picture. Michael felt that he needed someone to protect his interests.
John Branca was an excellent attorney, but now he needed a hands-on manager since Weisner and DeMann were gone and Joseph
was no longer managing him.