Michael Jackson died 4 years, 12 days after acquittal on charges of child sex abuse, one of the biggest thing that ever happened in our sleepy part of California. When it was announced, I left work early and raced to the courthouse to bear witness to the circus. Standing with my friends on a little hill in the courthouse lawn between temporary chain link fences and barricades, we watched the street get closed off, helicopters in the air, and police with plastic cuffs bundled in their belts in case a riot broke out. When the motorcade arrived, it was pandemonium. We saw him only briefly, not even long enough for the digital camera to get his picture. Shortly afterwards, it was silence. It was weird. Everyone was gathered around phones on top volume tied into television sets at top volume back at home. In the thick of the crowd there was a speaker with court room audio for the press and from that point the message was relayed into space and back to the courthouse to the cell phones in the crowd. From the center, where the dedicated fans and the press were gathered, there were cheers milliseconds in advance. There wasn't so much from our position. We didn't really care one way or another, though we expected this outcome. I don't really have an opinion on the matter to be honest because I was just a local there for the show. It was the biggest thing that ever happened here. Well, second biggest. The biggest was when he danced on top of that SUV.

Wow, this place sucks.