Bernadette Bowman's Day with Michael Jackson
I've read and heard a lot of personal accounts regarding Michael Jackson, but here's one that I absolutely loved from one of our dear friends, Bernadette Bowman.
Bernadette and I met through a "Writing a 1-Person Show" workshop at UCLA and have remained friends since. Ironically, she grew up in San Diego not far from me, and I met her sister one random night at Corvette Diner years before I met Bernadette. Bernadette got me into The Groundlings and is truly one of the funniest women I know, but also with a golden glowing heart. We're blessed to know her.
One of Bernadette's early jobs was working as a tour guide at Universal Studios in Hollywood. Here is her story about meeting Michael Jackson.
My Afternoon with Mr. Jackson
It was late February or early March of '85 and I was summoned into the Guide Dispatch office at Universal from my position at the Tour Information Booth in the early afternoon.
"We need you to do a 'special' this afternoon."
(A "special" was a version of the VIP tours we used to do in the Rice-a-Roni trolley but it took place on one car of a Super Tram which seated more than the usual 10 people)
"Okay, sure...who is it?"
"It's Michael Jackson."
I felt my stomach drop. THE Michael Jackson? With my luck, it would have been the annoying British talk radio Michael Jackson....but, not this time. This time it was the real deal, The recent Grammy winner.... the kid my parents wouldn't allow me to go and see in 1972.....the cute little boy my best friend, Mirta, had named her dog after in the fourth grade.
"Um....okay. Sure...what time?" (trying so hard to be cool)
A half hour later I was welcoming Michael J. and his guests onto the abbreviated Super Tram by the employee gate. And what a group it was for a card carrying Product of the Seventies!!!
Let's see....there was Michael (and his people). There was Sean Lennon (the closest I'd ever come to meeting an actual Beatle!!) and his nanny (no Yoko.....oh, no!). Joining Sean and his keeper were (gulp) Barry Gibb's three sons and the lovely Linda, Barry's wife. In all honesty, I was more excited about being in the presence of anyone remotely close to being a Bee Gee.
The group loaded the tram car and Michael and the boys and I were off to the great adventure of the Universal Studios Guided Back Lot Tour.
I really loved being a tour guide. These kind of memories were only accessible in a situation such as this.
Michael could not have been sweeter. He and the boys referred to each other as "Hey, Rubberhead!" Michael did his best to make me "break character" and laugh during my official guide "spiels" and when we reached the corny Collapsing Bridge, I couldn't help but laugh as Michael began making faces at me and his smile was so contagious that only a similar childlike laugh would do at a moment such as this.
I do recall one peculiar thing he did throughout our adventure that afternoon. He had a small jar of vitamin B-12 cream that he kept applying to his nose (this was after nose job #3 or 4, I think..... one of his better ones) every ten minutes or so. Strange...but not really.
When we disembarked the tram to head into the live shows at the Entertainment Center, there were mobs of guests waiting, following, and shouting at Michael...."Congrats on the Grammys, Michael!" "Tell LaToya we love her!" (?!) "Yo, Michael, we love you man!" Michael would then raise his hand to acknowledge the admiration and with a tiny voice say, "I love you, too..."
I escorted Michael's group around the park into the evening as we pretty much did whatever he asked to do. He was lovely, polite, and accommodating when it came to posing for photos with cast members of the live shows....and I'll always remember having to endure the same kind of afternoon with one, Gary Coleman, a year later....who pretty much made it very clear that he was NOT available to be approached or spoken to. WOW....talk about putting things in perspective. (and that little runt borrowed my belt when his pants kept falling down and never returned it.....ugh).
When we reached the place where his group was to be picked up after all of the fun, the tacky woman from our makeshift "Tour Publicity" department demanded that I run and fetch her purse for her, which she had left backstage at one of the live shows....and being the $7 an hour dancing monkey that I was, I did as told. I ran to get the hand bag and back in my 3 inch pumps to say good bye to Michael, the Beatles and Bee Gees Babies like Angie Dickenson in "Police Woman."
But they were gone. They left. I never got to say good bye or to tell him just how great it was to meet him and how Mirta had named her dog after him when we were kids.
I'm not sure I really ever got over not being able to thank Michael Jackson for the joy he brought so many of us....but hopefully, wherever he is (with his B-12 cream and the best version of that nose) he knows now.
Rest In Peace, Mr. Rubberhead.