I may write more about l’affaire Michael Jackson, but I want to wait to see what Debbie Rowe does before I go at it again. If she’s a decent human being, she’ll step out of the picture, even if it takes a few hefty bankers to push her out of the frame. The play-for-fame womb renter (evidence pending) doesn’t deserve our concern outside of the harm she is capable of causing. The kids, do, though. Kids–none of us– deserves to have our DNA, family relationships and humanity exposed, yanked from our control, and broadcast as an international bread and circus. Losing the dad you love is scary enough without being served up as a genetic dog and pony show for the masses. To that end, I want to point out, Lindsay Greenwalt’s A Letter to Prince Michael, Paris and “Blanket” Jackson on her Confessions of a Cryokid blog, telling them (should they read it some day) and us, that they and we are not alone.By now you have probably heard all the major media outlets advertising that your dad is not your biological father, and that your mom is not your biological mother. I can only imagine how hard this Continue Reading →