So, yesterday I was leaving the Alexandria Rd Kroger, here in Lexington and Michael Jackson drove by. I stood in the middle of the parking lot and watched him go in a crappy, mid-nineties something or other in his fedora and aviators. True story.
Ten minutes later, I saw him walk out of a gas station near Lafayette High School, get into the back of a mini-van and shut the sliding door. Only this time he had boobs.
This morning I drove my kids to school and there he was again, waiting at the bus stop down the street. He had considerably more pudge in the midsection, and it looked like someone had forcibly removed the hatband from his dented fedora, but it was him all the same.
I'd know him anywhere by those mirrored shades.