When I was a child, I had one major fear: that when I got older, God would make me marry a boy who I felt was downright icky. This fear was 100 percent due to older church members telling me to “be nice, because [he] just might be who God wants you to marry when you grow up.” I was genuinely terrified to see my adult years. Well I’m here now – adulthood, I mean – and I haven’t married the aforementioned boy (praises). Being single though, and therefore subject to constant poor relationship advice, I often hear that I should be careful when I pray for a spouse, because I just might get what I ask for. What does that even mean? But, beyond that, what does that say about God? Nothing good, that’s for sure.
I doubt there is anything my family looks forward to more than our trips to Chicago. Every year at Thanksgiving, give or take a few instances, you can find the McMillian Clan eagerly wandering the streets of Michigan, Grand, State, 87th, 96th, Stoney Island, Cottage Grove – basically all over Chicago. This year was no different. We hit all the favorite spots (Harold’s, Captain Curt’s Shazaam, Garrett’s) and scouted out some new ones. My sister Rachel and I had been eyeing this restaurant, Eggsperience, for a while and decided to give it a try. There’s such an elegant art to breakfasting, and we felt Eggsperience would really up our respective levels of class. So, on Black Friday, while manic masses stormed the gates of excessive consumerism, we were out at a late breakfast with our father.
Michael Jackson died over two years ago. I’m not ashamed to say, I cried when I heard of his death. I’m also not ashamed to say that I sobbed and sniffled while watching his funeral. I might be ashamed to say that I burst into noisy tears when “Human Nature” came on my car radio a few months later. The point is that MJ’s death affected me, along with millions of other fans; and, there was a general feeling that Conrad Murray was responsible for his early demise.
I tend to stay out of public opinion debates, but in the case of Dr. Murray I had – as a family friend said – “all this gusto come out” of me. “Throw that man under the jail!” I might have said that once, twice…forty-nine times. What can I say? I love hard.