Gotham Chopra: MJ stopped from clubbing...
DancingTheDream
Posts: 4,923
This is a great tribute from the son of deepak chopra - both father and son knew Michael jackson well.
Writing Songs With My Friend Mike
When I was in my second year of college living on campus (at Columbia in NYC) with 4 suite mates, every time the phone rang, there was a race to answer it. Everyone wanted to be the guy to hear the "hello" on the other side just in case it was my friend Michael Jackson calling.
Most of those days, Michael was holed up on top of the Four Seasons, roughly 60 blocks away from where I lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan just near Harlem. I'd happily drift downtown, gain clearance from security downstairs who knew I was allowed free access to Michael's suite, take the elevator all the way up and start ordering room service and watch movies on Mike's tab. Eventually, Michael and I would get down to work. He was working on a new album and asked me to help him write lyrics for songs. It was an informal relationship - I'd wander downtown with a backpack full of dictionaries, and thesauri, and rhyming books. Michael would hum songs and talk about what he wanted to say with the song and we'd try and marry our skillsets and come up with something. We came up with great stuff. Michael swore me to secrecy those days. I happily complied.
After we were done with those sessions - they'd usually go until about 2 AM or so - Michael would wander into the bathroom and come out with a sack he'd pulled out from under the toilet. In it, he kept several thousands of dollars. He'd ask me how much I wanted. I just sort of shrugged and he'd hand me a couple of thousand dollars. Soon, I'd be packing my dictionaries and thesauri and rhyming books in my backpack, calling my friends and telling them to meet me downtown. Within an hour, we'd be at Flashdancers "making it rain."
Michael was always envious when I told him about my adventures with my friends. More than a few times, he'd get dressed up - dawning some sort of quasi-disguise - preparing to go with me, only to back down at the last minute or be held back by his security who would shake their heads and plainly say no to his misguided ambitions. Instead, he'd pour himself a tall glass of orange juice and settle in for the night to watch an old movie on TV, telling me to spend a few extra bucks for him. I happily complied.
My friendship with Michael was very special to me, and I like to think it was the same for him. Over the last few years, it always felt awkward to explain the origins of our friendship - that I met him initially when I was fifteen-years-old and that we instantly hit it off. I'd spend days at his Neverland Ranch, my sister, cousins, or other friends joining us in fantastical stretches filled with candy, arcade rides, late night movies and the absolute best chocolate chip cookies
of all times. Likewise he'd visit our house in Massachusetts (he was very close to my father as well) where he'd sleep in the guest room. My mom got a great kick out of the fact that every morning Michael stayed, he'd try to make the bed (very badly) and offer to cook breakfast (very badly). Then when I was about 17, Michael invited me on the road with him - he was heading out to Europe on the biggest rock concert at the time (Dangerous tour) and wanted company. I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me go and they eventually said yes. Not a bad way to spend your summer vacation between junior and senior year of High School.
Over the years, as Michael faced his scandals, I often reflected on my own experiences with him as a teenager. People would ask me if I had endured anything strange or awkward with him. I'd answer truthfully that in all of my years with him, in every single moment, Michael was nothing but dignified and appropriate, never once doing anything that would be deemed scandalous with me. It was really that simple.
Check that. Back to those college days. One night he did call me in a panic. He had just gotten married to Lisa Marie Presley and needed advice - sex advice. He was incredibly nervous and said that he wanted to make sure that Lisa was impressed with his "moves." He asked me if I had any advice. I answered with one word: "foreplay."
"Really?" He answered. "Girls really like that?"
Over the last few years, Michael's and my relationship evolved and matured greatly too. We both became fathers and that was the centerpiece of our most recent conversations the last few months. Returning the favor from my days as his "lyrical advisor," he's the one who monikered my half-Indian, half-Chinese son "The Chindian" which little Krishu Chen Xing Hua Chopra will now forever go by. We'd talk about how great it would be for our kids to grow up together, become as good friends as us, and set the world on fire. Michael admired the fact that I was able to find a wife, keep a wife, and gain her trust. I'd joke it was all about the foreplay! When his daughter Paris befell an accident a few years ago, he called my wife Candice (a physician) pleading for us to come to his house to check her out.
We did - Paris had fallen from a tree and cut herself deeply beneath the eye. Michael was devastated and confessed to me that he felt like the world's worst father. I calmed him as Candice helped Paris get up from the bed where she lay so we could take her to the Emergency room to get some simple stitches. When I advised Michael of the plan, he pulled me into the bathroom, pulled a sack filled with thousands of dollars from beneath the toilet and asked me how much I needed for the Emergency room.
I shook my head: "this one's on me."
RIP in peace my friend.
Writing Songs With My Friend Mike
When I was in my second year of college living on campus (at Columbia in NYC) with 4 suite mates, every time the phone rang, there was a race to answer it. Everyone wanted to be the guy to hear the "hello" on the other side just in case it was my friend Michael Jackson calling.
Most of those days, Michael was holed up on top of the Four Seasons, roughly 60 blocks away from where I lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan just near Harlem. I'd happily drift downtown, gain clearance from security downstairs who knew I was allowed free access to Michael's suite, take the elevator all the way up and start ordering room service and watch movies on Mike's tab. Eventually, Michael and I would get down to work. He was working on a new album and asked me to help him write lyrics for songs. It was an informal relationship - I'd wander downtown with a backpack full of dictionaries, and thesauri, and rhyming books. Michael would hum songs and talk about what he wanted to say with the song and we'd try and marry our skillsets and come up with something. We came up with great stuff. Michael swore me to secrecy those days. I happily complied.
After we were done with those sessions - they'd usually go until about 2 AM or so - Michael would wander into the bathroom and come out with a sack he'd pulled out from under the toilet. In it, he kept several thousands of dollars. He'd ask me how much I wanted. I just sort of shrugged and he'd hand me a couple of thousand dollars. Soon, I'd be packing my dictionaries and thesauri and rhyming books in my backpack, calling my friends and telling them to meet me downtown. Within an hour, we'd be at Flashdancers "making it rain."
Michael was always envious when I told him about my adventures with my friends. More than a few times, he'd get dressed up - dawning some sort of quasi-disguise - preparing to go with me, only to back down at the last minute or be held back by his security who would shake their heads and plainly say no to his misguided ambitions. Instead, he'd pour himself a tall glass of orange juice and settle in for the night to watch an old movie on TV, telling me to spend a few extra bucks for him. I happily complied.
My friendship with Michael was very special to me, and I like to think it was the same for him. Over the last few years, it always felt awkward to explain the origins of our friendship - that I met him initially when I was fifteen-years-old and that we instantly hit it off. I'd spend days at his Neverland Ranch, my sister, cousins, or other friends joining us in fantastical stretches filled with candy, arcade rides, late night movies and the absolute best chocolate chip cookies
of all times. Likewise he'd visit our house in Massachusetts (he was very close to my father as well) where he'd sleep in the guest room. My mom got a great kick out of the fact that every morning Michael stayed, he'd try to make the bed (very badly) and offer to cook breakfast (very badly). Then when I was about 17, Michael invited me on the road with him - he was heading out to Europe on the biggest rock concert at the time (Dangerous tour) and wanted company. I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me go and they eventually said yes. Not a bad way to spend your summer vacation between junior and senior year of High School.
Over the years, as Michael faced his scandals, I often reflected on my own experiences with him as a teenager. People would ask me if I had endured anything strange or awkward with him. I'd answer truthfully that in all of my years with him, in every single moment, Michael was nothing but dignified and appropriate, never once doing anything that would be deemed scandalous with me. It was really that simple.
Check that. Back to those college days. One night he did call me in a panic. He had just gotten married to Lisa Marie Presley and needed advice - sex advice. He was incredibly nervous and said that he wanted to make sure that Lisa was impressed with his "moves." He asked me if I had any advice. I answered with one word: "foreplay."
"Really?" He answered. "Girls really like that?"
Over the last few years, Michael's and my relationship evolved and matured greatly too. We both became fathers and that was the centerpiece of our most recent conversations the last few months. Returning the favor from my days as his "lyrical advisor," he's the one who monikered my half-Indian, half-Chinese son "The Chindian" which little Krishu Chen Xing Hua Chopra will now forever go by. We'd talk about how great it would be for our kids to grow up together, become as good friends as us, and set the world on fire. Michael admired the fact that I was able to find a wife, keep a wife, and gain her trust. I'd joke it was all about the foreplay! When his daughter Paris befell an accident a few years ago, he called my wife Candice (a physician) pleading for us to come to his house to check her out.
We did - Paris had fallen from a tree and cut herself deeply beneath the eye. Michael was devastated and confessed to me that he felt like the world's worst father. I calmed him as Candice helped Paris get up from the bed where she lay so we could take her to the Emergency room to get some simple stitches. When I advised Michael of the plan, he pulled me into the bathroom, pulled a sack filled with thousands of dollars from beneath the toilet and asked me how much I needed for the Emergency room.
I shook my head: "this one's on me."
RIP in peace my friend.
Comments
I felt kinda sad about him not being able to go to Flashdancers though.
Wait, is that a strip club? <!-- s
I dont know, is it?
I thought it was heartbreaking how MJ wanted to go but his security stopped him. <!-- s
And the way he kept his money in a bag and handed it out... it just makes me sad for some reason.. Maybe because he felt he had to give money away to have friends. Or maybe because he told his friend to spend the money in the club when MJ couldnt go. He wanted to go, but couldnt even spend his own money on enjoyment. <!-- s
The bit about him phoning up for sex advice for LMP is funny though. "Foreplay" <!-- s
Its the sack of money that has got me... makes him seems so vulnerable.
Thanks a lot for sharing
"had a dinner last nite with a man who see the world behind the curtain ",, ??
I think that he was trying to portray Michael in an honest light as how he knew him instead of the media nonsense.
Especially letting people know that he was friends with him as a young boy BUT Michael never attempted anything shady with him.
How many young men are coming forward and saying that?
Well, there's Macauly & Dave Dave, but to me any who come forward and say positive things that portray MJ as a human is a good thing.
As for the money, he was in high school or a college student and it seemed like honest pay for honest work. Maybe even less on MJ's part because if Deepak's son was a "professional" song writer he could have gotten writing credits and royalties for his work which would have been A LOT more than a couple thousand dollars!
karralyn
I find this story very endearing and sad at the same time.
Poor Micheal is a prisoner in his own life. He wanted so badly to go out with his friend and have some normal fun but was turned down by his security. Just goes to show you that Michael couldnt go anywhere. Im sure he has some good friends he can trust, but the fact that he went thru all the hassle to disguise himself and still couldnt go....and the fact he even HAD to disguise himself. My heart breaks.
MJ giving his friend money was his way of showing thanks. And Im sure he wanted to give his money to his friend, not only because he wanted to but because he thought he deserved it...apparently MJ wasnt allowed to even go out with his friends and buy them a night on the town. MJ has ALOT of money and could buy anything he wanted and it made him feel good to give it away. Thats what he is all about...selflessness.
the bag of money makes me feel sad....I almost feel like Mike felt he had to buy his friends, because he was so lonely. I hope Im wrong.
About the sex advice.....he was so innocent. Im sure he wasnt allowed to have a girlfriend either...in fact Im sure it was off limits...why, IDK.
Most men nowadays practically keep a list of all the girls theyve banged and its disgusting...but when a girl sleeps around, she's a whore. I met a guy who was very innocent in the sex dept about 10 yrs ago and I found it to be very sweet.....and very attractive. Unfortunately, it didnt work out, but to this day I feel like he was the one who got away. I believe we would have gotten married..
I love you Michael....you have all the friends you need right here who love you more then the world itself....xoxoxoxox
I love you so much XXXX
You know i always believed LMP was his "first" and i think this confirms it totally
A true friend would probably be in on the hoax and this one is not I don't think.