June 25, 2010
@The Regency Ballroom, San Francisco
Better Than: Listening to my coworker alternate between a bad British accent and a creepy falsetto while singing “The Girl is Mine” by Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson
I remember in high school there was a boy no one understood, save for a couple band kids. Let's call him Adam. Except for a single white glove, he wore all black, from his hat to his polished shoes. He was pale; no doubt from spending hours on a slippery kitchen floor perfecting his moonwalk. At the end of one school year, our teacher humored him and cleared the table of all manuals and practice workbooks, giving Adam a stage to demonstrate his best Michael Jackson impersonation. I had never met anyone quite like him.
Then came Friday night. Sutter Street in San Francisco was deserted. I was early for the Michael Jackson tribute concert, Moonwalker, at The Regency Ballroom. An inconspicuous black car pulled up beside me. And then a head popped out, followed by an entire bedazzled, silver and sequined bodysuit. The entrance of a superstar. Or someone who idolizes a superstar. I knew then that the Adam of my teenage years was about to come out in droves.