Thriller 25

"Thriller" is 25 years old - a quarter of a century.

It's the biggest selling record of all time - over 52 million units; records, cassettes, some music-club generated 8-tracks even, a now, compact disc and digital downloads.

The only other amazing thing is no one these days admits they ever bought one. People are going to sneak into the big box stores late at night or early in the morning for the 25th anniversary commemorative release when they think no one is looking.

Why?

Who knows?

"Thriller" has held its own over the years - Michael Jackson's personal eccentricity aside, this is a masterfully crafted piece of music - a 1980s memorial that is going to be around for awhile. Recommended listening; a lot of fun to experience again, and the short films included on DVD ("Beat It," "Billie Jean," and the full length "Thriller") and a few bonus music tracks make this a wise buy. What are you waiting for?

Happy Birthday Ghost Story

This morning I started reading Peter Straub's 1979 psycho-thriller "Ghost Story."

The movie, starring Fred Astaire, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., and Melvyn Douglas was to say the very least, frightening. It sort of put me in the mood of ghosts. No, I'm not looking for any. I have had enough of them to deal with in my own life, and because today is my birthday they come back in average numbers to remind me (as if I needed it) of stuff, things I don't really even like to think about.

My existence is a reminder that something went terribly wrong in my family. I am the product of something I don't understand, and certain members of my mother's family never seemed to want me around too much. Or was it I just thought that and conjured up every slight that came my way? I have been told that things would have been better had I not been born, a cousin once reminded me that I was trouble from the word go, and I can never remember getting a birthday card or Christmas present from my aunt who always seemed to be an old woman. Like the rest of the folks in my mother's family, they worked hard, lived through a Depression, a World War, and the 1950s. Perhaps a little respect is due here.

It's a funny feeling when you sense that you're not really wanted; on the top of family gatherings are the greetings of warmth and welcome, These many years later it felt like window dressing. Maybe I'm a really a ghost, another being from the past that sits in a chair, says nothing, but points accusing fingers at family members and screams, "I'm here to remind you of things that have happened. If it wasn't for me, maybe everyone would be a little happier, you could actually live in the I love Lucy world it's easy to retreat to when issues get a little hot on the table.

Perhaps I should not have been, but I am.

Life hasn't been bad - I have a wonderful wife, children I am proud of, interests, passions, and people. God says I'm OK the way I am but loves me too much to leave me that way, so He's working on me.

Me, a ghost?

Hardly.

To Steven, A Victim

Yesterday while under the influence of some kind of sudden yet saddened creativity, I composed something of a short eulogy for NIU gunman Steven Kazmierczak. Okay, I know, he doesn't probably deserve it. But, I believe that underneath all the hostility was a human being. Not knowing what pushed him over the edge and drove him to DeKalb and to Cole Hall with all that firepower makes us that much more curious to figure out what happened. I heard on the news a couple nights ago that no funeral services were scheduled for him. His body was removed to an Elk Grove Village funeral home, cremated, and that's pretty much the end of it.

I'm not hear to minimize what he did. He had no value for the lives he took, the NIU community, the families of those who were killed or injured, or for that matter, the rest of society. It was a senseless and tragic act and no one even marginally connected with the school or the student body, the victims, the survivors, is ever going to forget what happened on February 14. Nor am I hear to offer advice about what should have/could have/would have been done if we'd have known whatever or saw some obvious signs that something wasn't connecting with Steven. He was a human being. I'm like everyone else: I want to know what happened.