No doubt by now you’ve all seen the new footage of Michael Jackson that’s been hurling through web at warp speed. It was shot during rehearsals for his infamous 1984 Pepsi commercial, when his hair caught on fire.
I have to admit—watching the video today really affected me.
That’s because of a similar fate which befell me in 2002. I was filming a McDonalds commercial in New York that summer. The restaurant was introducing their new McSperm Shake and I was hired to promote it. I can’t remember the ad copy exactly, but it had something to do with me exploding with joy all over it.
Anyway, during the dance sequence, a light—and I mean a 40 pound light—fell on top of me.
At first nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But then I started singing the theme from “Rhoda” and asking everyone if they knew where my turtle was. I was rushed to the hospital and Ron was flown in to New York (we were separate that weekend.)
When the chief resident first took a look at me, he was convinced I had two massive hematomas and wouldn’t make it through the night. Of course, those turned out to be my balls. But for a mild concussion, I was going to be okay.
Ron, though--he was scared. He sat up with me that whole first night, talking to me so I wouldn’t fall asleep and bleed internally. This is going to sound weird, but it was one of the best nights of my life. For the first time in a very long time, Ron and I talked. I mean really talked. He told me all about his fears (dying, Hostess going out of business) and I told him mine (reenacting that scene in the car from “Garp”).
Then Ron said four words that I’d never heard him utter besides “I think I’m full.”
He said, “I love you, man.” And I said it right back.
Beautiful, huh? Unfortunately, Ron wasn't content to leave with that kind of vulnerability in the ethos. The next words out of his mouth were: “Now hurry up and get better. I ran into Portia De Rossi in the elevator and I’m pretty sure I can fuck the dyke right out of her.”
