As the stunning news of Michael Jackson’s sudden death made its twittering way through the intertubes like lightning, I thought of how much the kid from Gary, Indiana was a part of my life. Throughout my childhood, Jackson 5 music was as ever present as Otter Pops in summer. I watched the weekly Saturday morning cartoon series and variety show religiously and, when Post Super Sugar Crisp put one of their records for free on the back of the cereal box, I cut it out with meticulous care (probably with the “illegal” Big Girl scissors) and played the wavy cardboard and plastic disc on my cheesy avo-gold record player. The stuffed animals were gathered as stand-ins for the other Jacksons as I “sang lead” and “danced,” presumably as Michael. I watched in stunned amazement when he and his brothers introduced popping, locking, and the robot into the mainstream. I coveted his little sister Janet’s pom-pom ponytails and was inconsolable when, to my elementary school horror, I couldn’t duplicate the look because I didn’t have the right hair type. Occasionally, if I reflect upon this gross injustice long enough, I still am…but I digress.

When I was able to attend the Jackson’s Victory Tour at Dodger Stadium in December 1984 with floor seats (first base sounded great, until I arrived and realized the Jacksons were in the outfield with a sea of people in between), one of the biggest concerts to that date with 60,000 or more in attendance, to say I was thrilled would be an understatement. Not too long after, I was fortunate to be a production assistant on Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal” featurette. I remember it was some time before Jackson arrived on the Culver Studio lot. I was a sound assistant for the dancers during rehearsals as we waited to find out the music. Finally, stripped-down tracks arrived. Then, without warning or our notice, Jackson quietly arrived, walking the perimeter of the cavernous sound stage while checking everything and everybody out. He wore his then ubiquitous surgical mask and loafers with white socks.

As we realized his presence, a hush came over everyone, and just that quickly–he was gone. After this and a few other appearances, unless you were an actor, dancer, or choreographer, no one saw Jackson or his creative process until shooting began. Even then, it was a tightly closed set, whether you worked on the on the production or not. Sadly, until the wrap party, much of the rest my time was spent in the production office. Jackson was a perfectionist, and there were many, many late nights. A couple month gig turned into several. I never officially met Michael, hardly anyone did; however, I did get to meet Sean Lennon, hold Michael’s chimpanzee Bubbles for two seconds, and I received a swell picture of the entire production crew, talent, and money men on the set. Somewhere, behind the dancers, you can see my head peak out.

Endlessly afterward, and especially today, when I think of him, my brain is wired to hear the synclavier opening and refrain “Annie are you okay, are you okay Annie?” from “Smooth Criminal.” I recall the choreographer beginning warm-ups, daily without fail, with “The Payback” by James Brown, and the dancers working through seemingly odd choreography sequences. And the entourage. Oh, and the smell of various colognes and perfume in his trailer. Michael Jackson forever altered the recording industry and touched the universe with his music and performance. Now is the time to remember all the joy he spread with his talent, not the unsavory tabloid headlines of pop’s lost boy. The love you save may be your own.

Want to reminisce or learn more about the Jackson 5 and Michael Jackson’s groundbreaking work?

Share your memories in the comments below or read the following entries on Pop Culture Universe:

• “The Modern Dance, 1977–1985″ from 100 Albums that Changed the World (2007)
• “Early Video Stars” from The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Rock History, Volume 5: The Video Generation, 1981-1990 (2006)
• “Concerts for Humanitarian Causes” from The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Rock History, Volume 5: The Video Generation, 1981-1990 (2006)
• “The Jackson 5″ from The Unofficial Encyclopedia of the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame (1998)
• “MTV and Reaganomics” from The Story Behind the Song: 150 Songs that Chronicle the 20th Century (2004)
• “The 1980s: Music” The 1980s (2007)
• “Motown Recording Company” Historical Dictionary of the 1960s (1999)
• “The Jackson Five” from Historical Dictionary of the 1970s (1999)

When Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing premiered at Cannes in May 1989, and well before it hit theaters, many film critics and civic leaders’ hue and cry took dead aim at the movie calling it an “incitement to riot” that placed “dynamite under every [theater] seat.” Roger Ebert, however, maintained such negative commentary revealed more about their authors, and called the film “an honest, unsentimental story…closer to reflecting the current state of race relations in America than any other movie of our time.” No “civil unrest” occurred in response to the film. While there’s no need to list riots and unrest occurring prior to 1989, two years after the film’s release, the Rodney King beating took place. Three years later, the Los Angeles Riots erupted following the acquittal of the L.A.P.D. officers involved in King’s beating. Turned out, Lee’s film was more an accurate social barometer on race relations in the United States than an excuse for violence. At the time, Lee stated he would take responsibility should his film incite unrest, although he would later reveal he ultimately “had faith in [his] people” to, well, do the right thing.

Twenty years after its controversial debut, Do the Right Thing represents a cultural tipping point in U.S. and film history that still resonates, especially when contrasted with the recent election of Barack Obama (who took First Lady Michelle Obama on their first date to see the film, discussing it afterward over ice cream). While race relations in the ensuing 20-year period have evolved enough to elect an African American president, as the recent friendly fire shooting of an off-duty African American N.Y.P.D. officer by a white fellow officer may indicate, complete harmony has yet to be achieved. While Lee and his work, particularly Do the Right Thing, are often referred to as “militant,” the film is also a wondrous time capsule of pop culture trends.

Actually, militancy, or more appropriately Black Nationalism, is a unifying theme throughout the film and thus itself reflective of late-1980s pop culture. DJ Senor Love Daddy declares the day’s color to be black (to better absorb the sun’s heat); Smiley traverses the block selling images of Dr. Martin Luther King and Malcolm X; Mookie wears a Jackie Robinson Dodgers jersey; Buggin’ Out admonishes Mookie to “stay black”; and, specific to the era, fashions had a decidedly African flare: Leather necklaces with maps of Africa or “X” (for Malcolm) brandished in the pan-African colors of black, red, yellow, and green; kufi caps, and stylized Kente cloth embellishments were all pervasive and central to hip hop and street fashion (which was more form fitting then, MC Hammer aside). Having actors Ossie Davis (Da Mayor) and Ruby Dee (Mother Sister), both civil rights activists who were within the inner circles of both Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X, could also be considered a political statement that bridges generations.

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, Michael Jordan’s product endorsement p