We're not ready to see you go

After Farrah Fawcett left us this morning. The unbearable warm and humid day in downtown New York just started.
A friend dropped by and brought me a Chien-Ming Wang's signed ball which quickly lighted up my day.
Work, work, work and listening to the Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-Flat major, Op. 73, Emperor over and over and prepare head out to send a package to thanks the top hairdresser who cut my hair in Cannes.

With no hesitation. I picked the Beaver street post office side of the Wall street to avoid the bad attitude from the close peck slip one.
I was at desk filling up all the papers for the international package mailing. Suddenly people starting to yell and sigh in the back office about Michael Jackson's death. People in the queue calling around and asking their friends and families to check the news. Me & the mail lady were disturbed by the bad news and made couple mistakes on filling the papers. No one believed what we just heard. I checked the news on iPhone. And sadly see articles about his death from 2 rapidly adding to 5 then 8 articles and more.

After all these years. I still know how to moonwalk. I can still sing Billie Jane and I'm still dreaming to dance on the light square sidewalk with white socks. More than 20 years back. Me and a good old friend used to be the one of the weekly attraction of Taipei's Kiss disco by dance like Michael. And I'm sure we all wanted to see him finally recover and perform on the stage again. We're really not ready to see you go.

Moonwalker. We're orphans now.