Oops, Strawman, don’t want to do that 
Let’s hope he’s out mowing the lawn for his mom, although I rather doubt he would do anything that smacks of productivity.
To enlarge on my earlier point, right now I’m reading a fascinating book about Manhattan in the 1920′s, called “Terrible Honesty.” In part, it showcases the tremendous black talent evident in NY in those days – Fats Waller, Armstrong, Josephine Baker, Bessie Smith as well as less well known people – an extremely handsome man named Charles Gilpin, who starred in Eugene O’Neill’s “The Emperor Jones” and John Bubbles, who played Sportin’ Life in “Porgy and Bess.” I remember Pauline Kael wrote that Bubbles was the most talented, joyous dancer she had ever seen. Completely forgotten today.
That’s why I wonder why people always think the pop stars they loved as children will always be revered. Pop is of the moment – by definition. Tastes change. MJ moonwalking isn’t going to look as cool in 2085, any more than Rudy Valentino makes hearts pound today.
