It was not my intention for this day to turn out the way it did. I had fully intended to walk down to Starbucks, have a cup of coffee and read more of the motorcycle book. I thought that I would walk by the front of Staples Center to see whether the Michael Jackson wall was still up. And it was. So without even thinking about it, I stood in line in the scorching sun to sign the wall.
I’m glad that I did. It was a nice prayer to be down on my knees to write on the wall and leave my prayer in black ink. Perhaps it is the Catholic training that leads me to believe that writing prayers out and “offering” them in a way makes them a little stronger.
From there, I was enticed by the Grammy Museum’s special summer rate. I’ve been wanting to go since it opened, but wasn’t really thrilled about the price. What I walked into was amazing. It was positively amazing.
I spent about 3 hours on 2 floors of the museum, looking at the exhibits about the history of music in America. Staring at handwritten lyrics of Ritchie Valens, mesmerized by the guitar that was close by. Carlos Santana’s guitar was pretty amazing. As was Jimi Hendrix’ and Buddy Holly’s. It was an amazing stroll down American music memory lane. Even better than that, I loved the more technical aspects of music and the sound rooms where you could listen to the difference in music technology over the past 100 years.
There was a very small display of Michael Jackson’s jackets. But I was most impressed by the suit that he wore on the cover of the Thriller album.
I spent the last hour and a half watching MJ videos in a theater. It was a good way to end the afternoon. The sound and the screen were the perfect means to do justice to the music and to let me finish my tribute to him. To cry a little. To smile. And to say goodbye.