英文原版博文：
Writing Songs With My Friend, Mike
Posted Fri, 06/26/2009 - 02:35
Tags:
Relationships
Michael Jackson
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 Westside 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 Highschool.
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.
Gotham Chopra
Also read Deepak Chopra's A Tribute to My Friend, Michael Jackson and Mallika Chopra's Reflections on Growing Up with Michael Jackson
Flickr image by Current News Stories
中文翻译：
我大2的时候和4个室友一起住在学校。每次一有电话响所有人都会争先恐后地冲过去接，为了听到偶尔打电话来的我朋友MJ的一声"Hello"。
那时候，MJ住在四季酒店顶楼，在我住的地方往西大约60个街区，曼哈顿西侧紧临黑人区的地方。我愉快地穿过商业区，飘过楼下那些认识我的安保人员，直达MJ的套房，坐个电梯一路到休息室，在MJ那看电影(译者:这一段很飘逸..有几个词不知道怎么解释比较好..不过大意就是这样...)最后，我和MJ才开始工作。他那会儿在做一张新专集，并且让我在写词方面帮点忙。这关系可不一般---我背包里装满字典，叠词词典，压韵词典晃过闹市。MJ会哼着调子说他想在歌里表达的思想，然后我们就试着头脑风暴出来一些东西。我们真写出了不少不得了的东西。MJ让我暂时保密，而我也快乐地答应了。
等我们弄完那些事---那经常是夜里两点多了---MJ会飘进浴室，从马桶底下拿出个带子来。那里面装着大把的钱。他会问我想要多少。我就耸耸肩，于是他拿给我一两千块。然后我就包起我的字典，各种工具书，打个电话给我的朋友们告诉他们在商业区找我。然后一小时之后，我们会出现在舞场。(译者:Making it rain是MJ的歌名吗?)
每当我给他说起我和我朋友的奇遇，MJ总是很羡慕。不止一次，他乔装打扮，想跟我一起去，但是最后放弃或者被安保人员摇着头拦回去。然后，他会灌下一大杯橙汁，然后安静地坐在电视前看上一部老电影，让我再陪陪他。我总是欣然答应。
我和MJ之间的友谊对我来说非常特殊，我想对他来说也一样。在过去的几年间，想要解释我们的友谊是怎么来的显得很没意义---我15岁的时候碰到他，然后我们一拍即合。我和我姐姐，表兄或者其他什么朋友会在他的Neverland农场花上成天的时间泡在糖果，Arcade rides(译者:应该是某种娱乐机器)，夜间电影和绝对是有史以来最帮的巧克力饼干。他也同样会到我们在麻省的家来做客(他和我家人也很熟)并睡在客房里。MJ在的时候，一到早上就把我母亲的活给抢了。他试着整理床铺(弄得乱八七糟)，还试着弄早餐(同乱八七糟)。然后，当我17岁左右的时候，MJ邀请我和他走一趟---他那会正要去欧洲举办当时最大的摇滚(?)演唱会(危险巡演)，他想找个伴。我恳求父母让我去而他们最终也答应了。这确实是个打发初高中之间长假的不错的方法。(译者:我真不想吐槽)
MJ在丑闻中挣扎的那几年里，我经常向人们反映我十多岁时关于MJ的亲身经历。然后人们就问我有没有觉得他的怪异和变态难以忍受。我就义正词严地告诉他们在我和MJ相处的几年里的每一瞬间，MJ都是高尚并且正直的，在我看来，他从来没有过哪怕一次做出过任何事能符合那些胡说八道。就是那么简单。
上大学的时候, 有一天晚上他慌张地打电话给我---那会他刚和猫王千金结婚---他向我询问建议..关于房事的建议...他紧张得难以置信..他说希望他的"动作"能给Lisa留下好影象...他问我有什么建议没有...我说"前戏"...
"真的?"他问.."女孩子们真的喜欢那个?"....
最近的几年里MJ和我之间的友谊也成熟多了。我们都当了爸爸，而这也成了最近几个月间我们之间最核心的话题。回报我当他“填词助理”的日子，他给我中印混血的儿子取名“中印”(译者:这个句子翻译成中文好冷...)。而这称呼也替代了我儿子的原名。我们曾谈到如果我们的孩子们一起长大就太好了，像我们一样要好，也像我们一样成功。MJ很羡慕我能找到个好妻子并且获得她的信任。我曾经开玩笑说这就是前戏的好处。(译者:没力气吐槽了...)几年前他女儿Paris碰上事故的时候，他打电话给我妻子Candice(内科医生)请我们到他家里去看看她女儿。
我们去了---Paris从树上摔了下来，眼睛下面被严重划伤。MJ痛心地对我说他是世界上最糟糕的父亲。我让他冷静下来，Candice把Paris从床上扶起来，想带她到急救室去做些简单的缝合处理。当我们告诉MJ我们的想法时，他把我拖到浴室，从马桶下面拿出大把的钱然后问我去急救室要多少钱。
我摇摇头说：“这次算我的。”
愿吾友安息。 |
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