Thrill the world

"A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while."
-Don McLean

When travelling the world you realize there are words that have, for better or worse, transcended national boundries. Usually these are English and pretty obvious. Ok. Hello. See you. Me love you long time. You know, the usual. Sometimes other world languages sneak in there. Bon Appetite. Bon Vogage. Bravo. Basically, by other world languages I meant French. And why not? French sayings celebrate the little things in life. GOOD APPETITE! GOOD TRIP! LET US BE CELEBRATORY OF THIS EVENT THAT WE ARE WITNESSING TAKING PLACE!

But Spanish has it's place, too. Just today a teacher at my school who, to my knowledge and ears, has minimal English ability asked me if I "Siesta". Given, siesta is a cultural phenomanon that, besides its awesomemisity, can't be translated easily into any other language. You literally have to be Spanish to understand the idea of sleeping all afternoon. Let me rephrase that. You have to be Spanish to accept socially to sleep all afternoon. Ole!

And everyone knows Cheers and there's hardly ever an opportuity not to clink glasses. Even a Buddhist monk will clink his tea. The thing is, everyone wants to know how to say it in your language, in that guy's language, here try to say it in this language. It just goes to my life theory, booze will teach you everything you need to know.

I have realized this by sneaking into many of the nooks and crannies around the world. An OK in an interrogation room in China will ease your blood pressure. A bon appetite at the table of your hosts in Germany will get you an extra schnitzel. Claiming you need a siesta in Indonesia will be greeted with a sarong and space on the beach.

But there is another language out there older than our primitive grunts and screechs. I'm talking about music of course. Back when our ancestors were clubbing dinosaurs for dinner, if Sarah Palin is to be believed, they came home to boogie down to some drumming and mammoth horn blowing. In fact, shaking your booty was instrumental to early human reproduction, treaties, war and most other interactions. It's like when you're in a club and the music is so loud you can't hear anything but the current auto-tuned talentless hack thumping away. You have to act out your current mood. "I want a drink", "Your place or mine?", "No, that's not happening", "Come on, it's not like your 20 anymore", "I'll give you oral in the bathroom" and "I'M SO DRUNK!" has been communicated on dancefloors around the world through ass shakes, hand motions and head bobs every Saturday night since electricity was invented.

These days, what with globalization and MTV and McDonalds and these kids these days with their twitting and faceplaces GET OFF MY LAWN! most popular music circumvents the globe faster than FOX News turns Obama's morning teeth brushing into a Communist conspiracy. I have heard Brittany Spears, Madonna, ACDC, the Beatles, Rolling Stones and many more random (seriously random...Sir Mix-A-Lot, really?) artists all over the place. But there really is only one that I've heard in every country, every city, every hole, every street corner. It has been said many times that Michael Jackson transcended race in American pop culture. However, it can also be said the man's music was bigger than race relations in the US. Yes, bigger than Rodney King, OJ, Spike Lee and the Civil War COMBINED (not to over-state it or anything).

Buy a plane ticket to Tibet. Go ahead, expedia is a good place to start. Now go to a town square. Win over the propoganda DJ at the local town market radio station with a bunch of OKs and Cheers'. Put on Billie Jean. Watch the smiles. Go to Rome. Sit in a cafe and hear Smooth Criminal come on. Toes a tappin'. Mention Thriller to that cute Japanese girl you're hitting on in Tokyo and Yuki's hand is suddenly on your thigh. Dozens of couples have practiced the famous Thriller dance for their weddings with their friends. Cause nothing says cementing the remainder of your life with another person like dancing zombies. And let me stop right there and reflect on that. Dancing zomies. Maybe today, 27 years later, the thought of a man in a red leather suit dancing with zombies while Vincent Price laughs menacingly seems acceptable, almost normal. But in 1983 it was definitely not the norm. Given, I was a mere three years old myself, hiding behind the nearest availabe pillow at the time. I want readers under 25 to know that there was a time in society where dancing zombies were not an option, were not an internet meme, were not part of civilized society. They just were not. Not only did this win people over, it established a reluctant MTV as a force in Western culture. Who can forget the inmates at some nameless prison in the Philippines? The birthplace of Pop followed. What about Moscow? How about on the way to work on the Tube in London? Take the bus? Busy watching a football game? Playing video games? Playing with Legos? Starring in a Bollywood musical? Lording over the Empire in a Death Star? Being an anthromophic lizard? Even today thousands upon thousands of people around the world recreate this absurd and delightful dance because, screw it, dancing zombies. Let me state that again for the descesitized: DANCING ZOMBIES.

Even the Norwegian ski team does the Beat It dance at the top of a mountain in gear. Led by Stockholm the world took note.Kids in Montreal groove out. Taipei, Amsterdam, , Mexico City , , Hong Kong, , Istanbul, Bucharest, Paris, Melbourne, London, Toronto, LA, Austin, New York, Cape Town, Sydney, Delhi....oh, you get it. Half the fun is youtube linking your afternoon away.

About a year ago after receiving a text from a friend on the way to work, I arrived to my first class distracted. At break my co-teacher asked me what the problem was. "Michael Jackson died". She fell back into her seat completely stunned. As much as I didn't expect that reaction, I have to say I was even more shocked when in the next class one of the 4th graders stood up, did a twirl, grabbed his belt and yalped "Hee-hee-hee" MJ style complete with leg kick. His classmates cheered. 9 year olds in Korea. When I was introduced later that year to my new co-teacher the first thing she told me was, "I've never met a foreigner before. But they say you like Michael Jackson. I love him!" She's a mousy young Korean woman who would rather eat glass than deal with a big hairy white guy, but all I have to do is mention MJ and her hands are flying, voice raised, eyes wide open. I'd be lying if I didn't say a few meetings of ours haven't ended in dance parties. And other Korean teachers hear the music and moonwalk (to the best of their abilities) into the room.

My fondest childhood memories are of sneaking a peek at the thriller dance on the TV with my family and having related nightmares with my sisters (the zombies were bad, but Michael's warewolf looked shockingly like our aunt's evil cat. To this day his growled "GET AWAY" sends shivers through our family's dinner table). While in University I remember walking into the local pub feeling down for some reason and being greeted by "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough". I followed Michael's advice and had a terrific night. I always remember walking in through swinging doors to that beat. Hell yeah, I'm here to party. Like a light switch. That's my life motto, and I still haven't gotten enough, and therefore haven't stopped. When I moved to Amsterdam I borrowed a Michael Jackson CD off a new friend and listened to it repeatedly as I enjoyed the city, including many of it's famous coffeeshops. Others may make you space out on pot, but Thriller beats would get us out of our seats, or at least show signs of active life. When I returned to Canada I danced to Michael Jackson at a company Christmas party with co-workers and when I refused to dance to anything else they kept the MJ coming. Here in Seoul I have endless discussions on the science behind the Smooth Criminal standing slant with my co-teacher. Many a night here have been spent in noraebangs belting out ANNIE ARE YOU OK! BEAT IT! IF YOU WANNA BE MY LOVER IT DON'T MATTER IF YOU'RE BLACK OR WHITE! Followed by flailing moonwalks, gratuitous crotch grabbing and more vocal hiccups than Brittany after her latest binge.

I really do believe people around the world all want the same thing. Everyone wants to have fun and where ever I end up Michael lets that happen.

And for that I just have to say: Thank you MJ.

Dancing Zombies!