He performed in soccer stadiums around the world, and sold hundreds of millions of records and dined with Prime Ministers and Presidents. Girls fell in love with him, boys fell in love with him, everyone wanted to dance like him. He seemed other worldly — but he was a human being. Like most performers, he was shy and plagued with insecurities.
I can’t say we were great friends, but in 1991 I decided I wanted to get to know him better. I asked him out to dinner: I said,“My treat, I’ll drive, just you and me.” He agreed and showed up to my house without any bodyguards. We drove to the restaurant in my car. It was dark out, but he was still wearing sunglasses. I said, “Michael, I feel like I’m talking to a limousine, do you think you could take off those glasses so I could see your eyes?” He paused for a moment, then he tossed the glasses out the window, looked at me with a wink and a smile and said, “Can you see me now, is that better?”