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September 6 2009
I finally made it to Neverland! It took like 3 hours to get there because of beach traffic. Damn you beachgoers! Anyway, when we got there there were already people out there basking in the Neverland Magic. That place is deep up under the cut. I mean, you really feel like “I gotta be lost” but you’re not. To get there off the 101 you have to go up this windy meandering, high in the sky mountain road with nice views, but very dangerous for the novice driver. Then the land kind of evens out and you are in Santa Barbara wine country, like a couple of miles from Solvang. I think it is called the Chumash Highway. Yay for Native Americans! Then you hook a right on Figueroa Road and you drive for like 10 miles looking at nice black Hereford cows. You’d so pass it if no one were out there because there is no sign indicating the address. And until he passed there was nothing in front of the property to identify it; just a big brown gate. The wreaths put up by that florist say Neverland on the left gate and Once Upon A Time on the right gate. I laid my poem and two pink roses out for him. I was the only person to bring something to leave in the hour that I was there. It’s cool because people will read my poem. I took my pictures. There were a lot of families out there. There was a black family out there when we arrived, but for the most part all of the visitors were White and Hispanic. People had written all over the outside wall; messages of love for Michael. I had to hustle on writing utensils to find something to write with. I came up with a highlighter and some colored lip gloss. I wrote the message I LOVE YOU MIKE on the left wall. I wish I could have written more, but it was hard with the space I could find, the unevenness of the stone surface, and my lip gloss and highlighter. There’s also a rudimentary heart drawn around my message; very rudimentary. Guess what else we saw A NEVERLAND DEER! Yea Chile, about 50 yards from the guard shack was a deer just eating the Neverland grass.
I met a lady and her adult son out there; they were from Missouri! Well the subject of Missouri came up when some people kind of slowed down to read my license plate and I said to Alesia “people are always staring at my license plate like MISSOURI?” The lady over heard and was like I’m from Missouri. I was like where at? She was like Cape Girardeau. I was like SEMO! She was surprised to know I knew the school. I also mentioned Lamberts. Her son now lives out in LA and she’s in visiting. He still has his Missouri plates too. I also heard the most touching thing. Like I said most of the people there brought their kids. A man was standing taking pictures of the gate and stuff and his little daughter (who couldn’t have been more than 4) asked him something and he replied because daddy listened to his music when I was growing up. The same way you like the Jonas’. That was so touching. I appreciate how you see generations of people all out there visiting, loving Mike. In any given family there were 2-4 generations. Everything from grandparents to arm babies. One group of people brought their chairs and just sat out on the side of the road facing the property; just taking it all in. At any given time there were from between 5 and 30 people out there. It’s funny how before he passed you could not find the damn address to the place. I just mapquested Neverland Ranch Friday and the address popped up 5225 Figueroa Road Los Olivos, CA 93441. Now ya’ll know I’ve committed it to memory.
Let me tell you. Just at the main gate it is so peaceful and serene. I mean the way the wind blows through the trees. The freshness of the air. I know I am more receptive to this than others, but I see why he chose this spot as his haven. It’s so magical. Like, it just feels so still. So very still. Although there is life teeming all around you it’s very easy to be there. You just breathe, be , feel, listen. It felt free. It felt good…and this was just at the main gate. Imagine the Euphoria if you were to actually get near the did up parts of the property. I even took a picture of the access code box thingy. There was some kind of vine plant growing on the wall with one single solitary purple flower growing from it. I don’t know if people took the rest of the flowers, but I found that interesting. There were also people taking the dead roses off the wreathes. I didn’t do that. I took two of the landscaped white flowers from the entrance. Darren, there was no Neverland grass to take. I know the landscaping people are going to be mad that people keep tampering with their work. At 6pm a bell tolled on the property across the road. I actually did see cows grazing on the land that was behind the Neverland gate. I remember reading some years back that Mike rented out or contracted out land for farmers to let their cows graze on.
I am glad I didn’t come shortly after he passed, it would have been damn near impossible to park within 1 mile of the place. It is truly a 2 lane road and the windy meandering road that leads to Figueroa is 2 lanes too. I know the rich white people were salty. Some asswipe even drove past the Neverland gate and yelled “let him go already.” Now, you know I have damned that white man into the eternal bowels of hell. Who the fuck are you to tell us when to let anybody go.” He could have just driven by. There was nothing or no one impeding his way. Fuckfaces like that will incite rage and a riot of mass murdering.
Anyway, on our way up there I promise you a Tarantula was crossing the road and I had to pass over it. I didn’t run it over, I just passed over it. I clammed up. I was clenching my booty cheeks even after I’d passed it. We drove through downtown Los Olivos. All of 2 block. It was the Mayberryest town I have ever seen in my life. Really quaint and full of places to taste wine. I am sure we were the only black people they’d seen today. It felt really white. Not the type of town I’d stop in for long. We are still in America, I ain’t stupid. We stopped by the Los Olivos Grocery Store. It was all mom and pop country store looking. We got expensive ass $10 burgers and ginger ale drinks. Sat outside on the covered patio thingy and looked at the country store cats. No, seriously the owners was taking care of some feral cats. Alesia asked the owner if Michael Jackson ever came to the store and the way his face went all rigid bothered me. Maybe he is tired of being asked about him. Maybe his name is the name the locals never say. It’s like the opposite of Pee wee Herman’s word of the day, but I won’t forget the way his face looked when she asked. He just got all rigid in the face and said no. His demeanor changed a bit. It felt cold. Like a frigid breeze came through an open window and blew out a candle.
I was pretty upbeat the whole time I was up there. A trip that I though was going to take like 5 hours too a good 10. I hit the high way at 1pm and didn’t get back home until 11pm. It was a good way to spend the day. Next time I go up that way I will go to the beach. Got to take advantage of the cool things about California while I can.
I have got to print out all of my picture and make a Mike 2009 scrapbook. The only Mike related place I have not been is the Holmny Hills place and I don’t rightly ever want to go there.
You can tell Mike’s mood by the way he walks. If he is in a pretty good mood he has a swagger, a kind of cat to his gait. There’s a slight bounce and his wiggy weave bounces right along with him. You can see it in his shoulders.
Was watching some fashion special about Mike on the TV Guide Channel. If I ever want to see what’s coming on TV kind of got to see it. They had the director of the Grammy Museum talking about the Mike jackets they have on display there. He said the jacket he wore to receive his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame weighs 15 lbs. And sometimes when he tried on a finished jacket and it didn’t feel right he’d have some one weigh down the light side with coins. So some of his jackets could have quarters and 50 cent pieces in them!
I was having a pity party in the car once I dropped Alesia off. I didn’t let any tears fall, but something pinched my spleen, sending a shock waves of secretions to my extremities, some manifesting themselves as tears as I sank into the reality of today’s visit. It’s 1:03am. I guess I’ll try to calm my mind and fall asleep to whatever is on TV.
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