Dangerous Incorporated
Guests
Michael "Master Girl Watcher" Jackson (Pin up Photo of Michael from Tiger Beat Magazine, 1972)
Michael Tells: ‘I’m A Girl Watcher!’
Tiger Beat; September 1972
Have you ever had that weird feeling that someone was staring at you—watching your every move? If you have, you might discover that the someone is none other than Michael Jackson!
He was leaning against the tree, whistling a nameless little tune. The sky—so blue that it hurt the eyes to stare up too long. But that was all right because he wasn’t looking at the sky. His eyes were busy elsewhere!
Michael grinned to himself. There was nothing that could top what he was doing right now! Standing here so casually, with his thumbs stuck through his belt loops, no one could guess that he was practicing an art.
TAKES PRACTICE
Michael always says it with a smile but he’s serious when he calls girl watching ‘an art’!
When asked, he’ll explain that it takes a lot of practice to ‘eyeball chicks’ without being noticed. For one thing, Michael knows that it’s very rude to stare at a person openly. That’s why he’s perfected a technique that never gives him away.
Why did he go through all this trouble?
‘Because I really don’t want to offend anyone by watching them. Some people really get uptight if they know someone is looking at them. But I have this weakness—I love looking at girls!’
‘Just watching a girl can give me the best reason to smile. Girls are something very special and you got to treat them that way. That’s why I always say don’t stare right at a chick. She’ll begin to fidget, wondering if her hair’s messed up or if her make-up is smeared. It’s kind of like going to an art gallery to see beautiful paintings. If you look at a painting just the right way, you get the most out of it!’
REASONS WHY
It’s very normal for a young, healthy, and great looking guy like Michael to enjoy girl watching. Every guy his age has put in time standing around just enjoying the lovely view of girls passing by! But, some guys like to look at girls and then rate them according to the way she’s dressed or how pretty she is. Not Michael. He has his own reasons.
‘The guys who are doing the rating are missing the whole point. They’re so busy counting up the scores that they’re not looking—I mean really looking at the girls.’
‘The way a girl walks. You can tell a lot from the walk. If she’s happy or sad—if she’s proud of being a girl. And then, there are the chicks that look so helpless that I want to rush over to them and put my arms around them!’
‘And if I’m lucky enough to be close enough to see her face—well, that’s like your favourite dessert after a fine meal!’
‘The eyes—do they wink at you? What makes them shine like they do? Love? Or just happy at being alive?’
‘And the mouth. Is it smiling at some secret? Or is she just doing her best to spread a little happiness by smiling at every person she sees?’
Michael’s list goes on and on. He can spend hours on a windy day seeing how the wind plays with long hair, short hair, dark hair, light hair. Or he can stare at the girls’ hands. Does she hold them still when she sits? Or are they part of her communicating methods? Do her hands come alive in conversation—gesturing wildly to emphasize her words?
But mostly, Michael just wants the time to watch and see the whole picture—the whole person. He likes everybody but the girls are still, for him, ’something very special!’
If he was one of those guys who rated the chicks he saw, Michael would be spending all his money on paper to add up the high scores for each girl. Because to him, each girl is a winner—simply by being a girl—by being someone special—by being the very girl he might be staring at this very moment—with a smile on his face.
