adamschoales
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Here's a little blog post I've been working on for Tomorrow... it's not been edited yet (or even proofed, I just finished writing it) so feel free to read through and let me know of any major issues.
Again, all my love and support to all the fans, and I am extending the same invitation I gave last year: if anyone needs to talk (be it about how they're feeling, or just to talk about the greatest that was Michael Jackson) feel free to contact me here, on skype (adamschoales) or msn (ehm_jay29 at hotmail dot com) or to even send an email (onewhitegloveblog at gmail dot com). I somehow managed to not have to work tomorrow so I'll have the day off to dedicate to the memory of Michael and would love to do so with the fans...
And now my blog (or essay): Long Live The King.
=================================
One year ago. Today. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long. It’s been a strange year to say the least, not least of which because of the events of today (many things happened in my own personal life that were unrelated). I remember as a boy I was a big fan of the Don Mclean song “American Pie”, in which Mclean sings about the death of Buddy Holly and how, for him (and many others), it was the day the music died. I also remember stories from my parents about the day John Lennon was shot and killed and how the world stopped. But that was their generation. For me, the day the music died was June 25th, 2009 when Michael Joseph Jackson, at the age of 50 died.
THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED.
I’ll never forget where I was. I was standing at a neighbourhood barbecue, deciding what I wanted to put on my burger when my phone buzzed. I didn’t think it would be anything too important so I ignored it at first. But it kept buzzing. I finally checked it to see I had 5 new text messages. What on earth could be so important? I opened the first one and my heart skipped a beat:
“Dude. Michael Jackson is Dead”
I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I skimmed through the rest. My best friends had all texted me, and I started replying franticly. How could this be? He was only 50. He was getting ready to tour. He couldn’t possibly be dead. There must be some mistake. It was at that moment that some ass-hat came in and said “Well, Michael Jackson just died.” as if it was nothing. No one really could believe the news, especially since nothing was official yet. The report had come from TMZ and according to other news sources he was simply in a coma.
“Okay” I thought, “coma I can deal with, just please don’t let him be dead”. I tried my best to stay composed, and even sat and chatted with others while I ate. But after 30 minutes of my stomach churning I had to go. As I was walking back to my house I received a text message from my then-girlfriend:
“Adam, it’s true. CNN just confirmed it. He’s dead”.
I ran through my house, upstairs to my computer to check the news. Sure enough, it seemed it was true. There was no official word yet but I knew that it was all over. So this is what it felt like for Don Mclean, or my parents. This is what it feels like when the music dies.
I noticed my email inbox had a message waiting for me. I opened it: it was from a reported at the Kitchener Record, a local paper my best-friend’s mother used to work for, asking for an interview. Turns out it was fairly well known (and evidently newsworthy?) that I was a fan… I guess that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Prior to now there weren’t a whole lot of die-hard Jackson fans out there, not since the events of 1993 and again in 2003. I called the number and began speaking with the reporter, Fran. Fran sounded a bit aged and it became quite clear after a few minutes of chatting she knew absolutely nothing about Michael Jackson. For starters, she didn’t know he was black… which unless you were living under a rock (or a newborn) seems to be to be pretty common knowledge. I mean, sure, he looked white, but just about everyone out there knows he *started off* black. But okay, fine. Then there was the face that she didn’t know what Thriller was. I had to explain that it was only the biggest selling album of all time… it was downhill from there.
It was shortly after I hung up that my Mum and Sister came into my room to say that one of the brothers had just held a press conference and confirmed the rumours: Michael Jackson had died. They wanted to see how I was, and I assured them I was fine. I wasn’t. I was upset, but I’d be fine. I spent the rest of the night listening to his music (the local radio station had forgone its regular programming to play nothing but Michael Jackson music for the rest of the night - something the continued to congratulate themselves for as the night went on…)
The next day I woke up to an empty house. My parents were headed off to a resort for the weekend and it was just me and my sister for the day (I was to go visit my then-girlfriend in Toronto the next day). Shortly after I got out of the shower the phone began to rang, and for some reason I answered it. It was another Reporter from the Record. He had heard that the last interview didn’t go so well (I had mentioned to my best friend what a joke it was) and that he’d like to spend some time talking with me. We spoke for almost an hour and a half, trading stories. Mostly I just spurted out useless Jackson trivia I had accumulated over the past 10 years, but at other times he too would chime in and we had very serious discussions about the music industry, and the impact that Michael Jackson had made on it. Then came the question I knew I would get eventually: “what is it like being a Michael Jackson fan?”. It’s a question I had been getting (though not in those words usually, usually it was much ruder) for many years. “It cannot be easy”. No, it couldn’t. But without even thinking I gave my answer, an answer I had given many times before, usually after becoming very flustered. This time I was calm, collected, and said it exactly the way it needed to be expressed:
“No, it’s not been easy, and I had to deal with my fair share of teasing over the years. But the way I see it is this: I don’t know him, nor do I know what has happened in his personal life in the past. None of us do. But putting his bizarre eccentricities aside (of which there are many), and whether or not those horrible things he was accused of were true or not [for the record: I believe he was 100% innocent] it doesn’t change the fact that Billie Jean is still the greatest song of all time. It’s as simple as that. In the end, it is his music that he will be remembered for, not his (admittedly) bizarre personal life.”
The reporter then said something I hadn’t heard from a “non-fan”, in a long time, if ever:
“Adam, I think you’re right.”
He thanked me, and also asked if I was going to be home for the rest of the day as they wanted to send a photographer to my place to get some photos (again, apparently I’m the only Jackson fan in the KW area?). I told him I would be, though but that I didn’t have any creepy shrines or anything (and I still don’t for the record, just a few posters and some albums on the wall). Just before we hung up he said one more thing:
“By the way: I’m by no means a huge fan or anything but I agree with you: Billie Jean is probably the greatest pop song ever.”
“Thanks,” I said, “I think so too. Take Care.”
ALL FOR L.O.V.E.
With that I started packing up my things to head to Toronto. My then-girlfriend insisted I come up early, that sitting at home in a big empty house was not going to help and so I did. In the meantime I headed online to try and figure out the bus schedule. That’s when I saw Facebook. There wasn’t a single status that didn’t mention Michael Jackson (be it positive or negative). Even more remarkable was the outpouring of love and support on my Facebook wall. Every single post said something along the lines of “i just heard, hope you’re okay, all my love” or “when I heard the first person I thought of was you” (to which I would respond “thank you, but send your love and support to his children who lost their daddy”). I found it so strange that people kept asking me if I was okay (though I was very touched). Of course I was. Sure, I was sad that I’ll never get to fulfil my dream of meeting the guy, or get to hear a new album (well, sort of). But I didn’t know him personally. Yes, I was touched by his gifts, but I was no where near as upset as when my Grandfather passed away. Yes, he was an idol, a hero of some sorts (even though I never wanted to be a musician) but I was fine. What I was more upset about was the fact that he had 3 kids who now didn’t have a father. Who’s lives, which were already topsy-turvy, were about to get even worse. However, as much as I wished people were thinking about the people who were really affected (his family) I was very humbled and touched by the support and love all my friends (be they my closest friends, or people I barely spoke to) sent to me. With that, I packed my things and headed to the bus to go to Toronto.
It was strange arriving in Toronto. First thing I did was rush to HMV where my dear friend Dana worked. Dana was the only person in the world who I can safely say is a bigger Michael Jackson fan than me (after all, she’s a lady and can love him in a way I never can… *ahem*). The minute I walked into the store she rushed from behind the counter and gave me the biggest hug. We shared some memories and made sure each other was okay, and off I went to go meet up with my girlfriend. It was strange though. Everywhere you turned you couldn’t help but see or hear Michael Jackson. Car stereos were blasting his tunes, people were walking around in T-Shirts with his face, hell, some people even were Moonwalking across the street. It looked as though my prediction was starting to come true. But I was pissed. These aren’t real fans. These are just people cashing in on his death. They couldn’t even name the album half these songs came from. Childish, I know. And I quickly got over this fact (to a degree). The truth was, it was kind of nice to see Michael Jackson being remembered for his greatest gifts: his music, even if it was all too late.
But it was that last bit that really bothered me. Over the coming months Michael Jackson became bigger in death than he ever was in life (which is saying something). The outpouring of support was remarkable. You couldn’t turn on the television without someone talking about him. Every musician who could speak spoke of his influence. Movie deals were being made. Record deals were being signed. And I kept asking myself the same question over and over: where was this 6 years ago? Where were these people when this guy was lying on the ground being kicked day in and day out.Was I glad to see people appreciating his music again? Absolutely. Was I happy to hear Madonna admit she had “failed him”? You bet I was. But I was still angry that, in the end, it took his tragic death to make people sit up and realize just what an incredible genius this guy was. And no, I don’t think that is an overstatement. Michael Jackson was a genius.
Some people, many people, my then-girlfriend included, didn’t get it. They didn’t understand what the big deal was. I was shocked to hear some teenager in my Sobeys say “I don’t get what the big deal is. His songs are no where near as good as Lady Gaga’s”. Many people wrote jokes on Facebook, or asked how we could mourn the loss of a celebrity when there was a war going on, or children starving (something Jackson constantly tried to battle through his charitable work… but of course they wouldn’t know that). What was surprising to me was how many people, *normal people* would tell these people off, reminding them to show some respect and dignity. Again, it seemed as though my prediction was beginning to come true.
DON’T STOP ’TIL YOU GET ENOUGH.
There were many exciting though also heartbreaking moments over the coming months: the memorial - which yes, I can admit, led me to tears on more than one occasion (you can blame little Paris Jackson), walking into the biggest HMV in Toronto and seeing that they were completely sold out of every Michael Jackson record they had (and would continue to sell out for months), the re-release of music (it’s no wonder he became the top selling artist of the year), the release of This Is It (and everything surrounding the release of the film), and now the upcoming albums and video games. Michael Mania was sweeping the globe all over again. My friend who worked at a used CD store would text me daily with hilarious stories of people trying to sell their “rare” copies of Thriller, asking how much they’re worth, and how he would have to respond (deadpan) “it’s the biggest selling album ever… you’re CD is worth about 5 bucks”. And since Jackson has passed, not once have I been teased (though I’m sure that will change today). In fact, people come to me and ask me questions about all sorts of Jackson related things, knowing that I’m basically a walking Jackson-pedia. And while most of my anger towards the media, celebrities, and everyone trying to make a penny off of his name (his family included) has subsided, I still cannot help but feel sad that he’s not around to witness it. That this all couldn’t have happened a few years sooner, and that if it had he might still be alive. I cannot help but feel that we, the fans, helped push him to the edge, and that had we not all demanded so much of him (new music, a tour, etc.) he might still be here today.
So here we are, a year since Michael’s death. Typing those words still seems strange, even a year later. It’s hard to believe that he really is gone, especially when you consider just how much Michael Jackson related material has come out in the last year. If anything, with him being bigger than ever, you’d think he *was* still alive and well. It’s been a strange year (for many reasons), but I am comforted by the fact that my prediction has come true. I know many people who since his passing have come to me asking to borrow my CDs, asking to hear the best stuff, the rarities, the stuff only us die-hard fans know about. My ex-girlfriends little brother may have jumped on the “Michael Jackson is Cool Again” bandwagon when it first rolled into town, but even a year later he is still listening, still asking for more, and it’s safe to say has become a fan. Hell, even my baby sister (okay, she’s 19, not really a baby) who used to think I was kind of weird for liking Michael Jackson is sneaking into my room to copy my CDs, and comes to me asking questions about his music and his personal life (she too thinks he was innocent, now that she has all the facts). She demanded I bring home a copy of This Is It so we could watch it. Sure, there will always be those who bring up the allegations, and the eccentricities. Haters will always hate. But the truth is, Michael Jackson will be remembered for the gifts he gave to us all, for his incredible talent, and his beautiful music.
Rolling Stone published a memorial piece which closed by saying something that I, prior to reading, had never thought of. It was something along the lines of:
“He pulled it off, he did what he wanted to achieve. Without penning a single new song, without releasing a single new album or single, without a tour or even a single concert. Without doing anything, Michael Jackson succeeded in having the greatest comeback in musical history. It’s a shame that all it took was his death”. As shocking as it may sound, they were right. In the end, Michael Jackson didn’t have to do anything new. His back catalogue was still just as incredible today as it was when it first came out. He truly did have the greatest comeback in musical history. If only he could be alive today to witness it…
Thank you Michael Jackson, for everything. You’ve been an inspiration to me and millions of others, and you will always be in our hearts.
L.O.V.E.
Long live The King.
Again, all my love and support to all the fans, and I am extending the same invitation I gave last year: if anyone needs to talk (be it about how they're feeling, or just to talk about the greatest that was Michael Jackson) feel free to contact me here, on skype (adamschoales) or msn (ehm_jay29 at hotmail dot com) or to even send an email (onewhitegloveblog at gmail dot com). I somehow managed to not have to work tomorrow so I'll have the day off to dedicate to the memory of Michael and would love to do so with the fans...
And now my blog (or essay): Long Live The King.
=================================
One year ago. Today. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long. It’s been a strange year to say the least, not least of which because of the events of today (many things happened in my own personal life that were unrelated). I remember as a boy I was a big fan of the Don Mclean song “American Pie”, in which Mclean sings about the death of Buddy Holly and how, for him (and many others), it was the day the music died. I also remember stories from my parents about the day John Lennon was shot and killed and how the world stopped. But that was their generation. For me, the day the music died was June 25th, 2009 when Michael Joseph Jackson, at the age of 50 died.
THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED.
I’ll never forget where I was. I was standing at a neighbourhood barbecue, deciding what I wanted to put on my burger when my phone buzzed. I didn’t think it would be anything too important so I ignored it at first. But it kept buzzing. I finally checked it to see I had 5 new text messages. What on earth could be so important? I opened the first one and my heart skipped a beat:
“Dude. Michael Jackson is Dead”
I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I skimmed through the rest. My best friends had all texted me, and I started replying franticly. How could this be? He was only 50. He was getting ready to tour. He couldn’t possibly be dead. There must be some mistake. It was at that moment that some ass-hat came in and said “Well, Michael Jackson just died.” as if it was nothing. No one really could believe the news, especially since nothing was official yet. The report had come from TMZ and according to other news sources he was simply in a coma.
“Okay” I thought, “coma I can deal with, just please don’t let him be dead”. I tried my best to stay composed, and even sat and chatted with others while I ate. But after 30 minutes of my stomach churning I had to go. As I was walking back to my house I received a text message from my then-girlfriend:
“Adam, it’s true. CNN just confirmed it. He’s dead”.
I ran through my house, upstairs to my computer to check the news. Sure enough, it seemed it was true. There was no official word yet but I knew that it was all over. So this is what it felt like for Don Mclean, or my parents. This is what it feels like when the music dies.
I noticed my email inbox had a message waiting for me. I opened it: it was from a reported at the Kitchener Record, a local paper my best-friend’s mother used to work for, asking for an interview. Turns out it was fairly well known (and evidently newsworthy?) that I was a fan… I guess that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Prior to now there weren’t a whole lot of die-hard Jackson fans out there, not since the events of 1993 and again in 2003. I called the number and began speaking with the reporter, Fran. Fran sounded a bit aged and it became quite clear after a few minutes of chatting she knew absolutely nothing about Michael Jackson. For starters, she didn’t know he was black… which unless you were living under a rock (or a newborn) seems to be to be pretty common knowledge. I mean, sure, he looked white, but just about everyone out there knows he *started off* black. But okay, fine. Then there was the face that she didn’t know what Thriller was. I had to explain that it was only the biggest selling album of all time… it was downhill from there.
It was shortly after I hung up that my Mum and Sister came into my room to say that one of the brothers had just held a press conference and confirmed the rumours: Michael Jackson had died. They wanted to see how I was, and I assured them I was fine. I wasn’t. I was upset, but I’d be fine. I spent the rest of the night listening to his music (the local radio station had forgone its regular programming to play nothing but Michael Jackson music for the rest of the night - something the continued to congratulate themselves for as the night went on…)
The next day I woke up to an empty house. My parents were headed off to a resort for the weekend and it was just me and my sister for the day (I was to go visit my then-girlfriend in Toronto the next day). Shortly after I got out of the shower the phone began to rang, and for some reason I answered it. It was another Reporter from the Record. He had heard that the last interview didn’t go so well (I had mentioned to my best friend what a joke it was) and that he’d like to spend some time talking with me. We spoke for almost an hour and a half, trading stories. Mostly I just spurted out useless Jackson trivia I had accumulated over the past 10 years, but at other times he too would chime in and we had very serious discussions about the music industry, and the impact that Michael Jackson had made on it. Then came the question I knew I would get eventually: “what is it like being a Michael Jackson fan?”. It’s a question I had been getting (though not in those words usually, usually it was much ruder) for many years. “It cannot be easy”. No, it couldn’t. But without even thinking I gave my answer, an answer I had given many times before, usually after becoming very flustered. This time I was calm, collected, and said it exactly the way it needed to be expressed:
“No, it’s not been easy, and I had to deal with my fair share of teasing over the years. But the way I see it is this: I don’t know him, nor do I know what has happened in his personal life in the past. None of us do. But putting his bizarre eccentricities aside (of which there are many), and whether or not those horrible things he was accused of were true or not [for the record: I believe he was 100% innocent] it doesn’t change the fact that Billie Jean is still the greatest song of all time. It’s as simple as that. In the end, it is his music that he will be remembered for, not his (admittedly) bizarre personal life.”
The reporter then said something I hadn’t heard from a “non-fan”, in a long time, if ever:
“Adam, I think you’re right.”
He thanked me, and also asked if I was going to be home for the rest of the day as they wanted to send a photographer to my place to get some photos (again, apparently I’m the only Jackson fan in the KW area?). I told him I would be, though but that I didn’t have any creepy shrines or anything (and I still don’t for the record, just a few posters and some albums on the wall). Just before we hung up he said one more thing:
“By the way: I’m by no means a huge fan or anything but I agree with you: Billie Jean is probably the greatest pop song ever.”
“Thanks,” I said, “I think so too. Take Care.”
ALL FOR L.O.V.E.
With that I started packing up my things to head to Toronto. My then-girlfriend insisted I come up early, that sitting at home in a big empty house was not going to help and so I did. In the meantime I headed online to try and figure out the bus schedule. That’s when I saw Facebook. There wasn’t a single status that didn’t mention Michael Jackson (be it positive or negative). Even more remarkable was the outpouring of love and support on my Facebook wall. Every single post said something along the lines of “i just heard, hope you’re okay, all my love” or “when I heard the first person I thought of was you” (to which I would respond “thank you, but send your love and support to his children who lost their daddy”). I found it so strange that people kept asking me if I was okay (though I was very touched). Of course I was. Sure, I was sad that I’ll never get to fulfil my dream of meeting the guy, or get to hear a new album (well, sort of). But I didn’t know him personally. Yes, I was touched by his gifts, but I was no where near as upset as when my Grandfather passed away. Yes, he was an idol, a hero of some sorts (even though I never wanted to be a musician) but I was fine. What I was more upset about was the fact that he had 3 kids who now didn’t have a father. Who’s lives, which were already topsy-turvy, were about to get even worse. However, as much as I wished people were thinking about the people who were really affected (his family) I was very humbled and touched by the support and love all my friends (be they my closest friends, or people I barely spoke to) sent to me. With that, I packed my things and headed to the bus to go to Toronto.
It was strange arriving in Toronto. First thing I did was rush to HMV where my dear friend Dana worked. Dana was the only person in the world who I can safely say is a bigger Michael Jackson fan than me (after all, she’s a lady and can love him in a way I never can… *ahem*). The minute I walked into the store she rushed from behind the counter and gave me the biggest hug. We shared some memories and made sure each other was okay, and off I went to go meet up with my girlfriend. It was strange though. Everywhere you turned you couldn’t help but see or hear Michael Jackson. Car stereos were blasting his tunes, people were walking around in T-Shirts with his face, hell, some people even were Moonwalking across the street. It looked as though my prediction was starting to come true. But I was pissed. These aren’t real fans. These are just people cashing in on his death. They couldn’t even name the album half these songs came from. Childish, I know. And I quickly got over this fact (to a degree). The truth was, it was kind of nice to see Michael Jackson being remembered for his greatest gifts: his music, even if it was all too late.
But it was that last bit that really bothered me. Over the coming months Michael Jackson became bigger in death than he ever was in life (which is saying something). The outpouring of support was remarkable. You couldn’t turn on the television without someone talking about him. Every musician who could speak spoke of his influence. Movie deals were being made. Record deals were being signed. And I kept asking myself the same question over and over: where was this 6 years ago? Where were these people when this guy was lying on the ground being kicked day in and day out.Was I glad to see people appreciating his music again? Absolutely. Was I happy to hear Madonna admit she had “failed him”? You bet I was. But I was still angry that, in the end, it took his tragic death to make people sit up and realize just what an incredible genius this guy was. And no, I don’t think that is an overstatement. Michael Jackson was a genius.
Some people, many people, my then-girlfriend included, didn’t get it. They didn’t understand what the big deal was. I was shocked to hear some teenager in my Sobeys say “I don’t get what the big deal is. His songs are no where near as good as Lady Gaga’s”. Many people wrote jokes on Facebook, or asked how we could mourn the loss of a celebrity when there was a war going on, or children starving (something Jackson constantly tried to battle through his charitable work… but of course they wouldn’t know that). What was surprising to me was how many people, *normal people* would tell these people off, reminding them to show some respect and dignity. Again, it seemed as though my prediction was beginning to come true.
DON’T STOP ’TIL YOU GET ENOUGH.
There were many exciting though also heartbreaking moments over the coming months: the memorial - which yes, I can admit, led me to tears on more than one occasion (you can blame little Paris Jackson), walking into the biggest HMV in Toronto and seeing that they were completely sold out of every Michael Jackson record they had (and would continue to sell out for months), the re-release of music (it’s no wonder he became the top selling artist of the year), the release of This Is It (and everything surrounding the release of the film), and now the upcoming albums and video games. Michael Mania was sweeping the globe all over again. My friend who worked at a used CD store would text me daily with hilarious stories of people trying to sell their “rare” copies of Thriller, asking how much they’re worth, and how he would have to respond (deadpan) “it’s the biggest selling album ever… you’re CD is worth about 5 bucks”. And since Jackson has passed, not once have I been teased (though I’m sure that will change today). In fact, people come to me and ask me questions about all sorts of Jackson related things, knowing that I’m basically a walking Jackson-pedia. And while most of my anger towards the media, celebrities, and everyone trying to make a penny off of his name (his family included) has subsided, I still cannot help but feel sad that he’s not around to witness it. That this all couldn’t have happened a few years sooner, and that if it had he might still be alive. I cannot help but feel that we, the fans, helped push him to the edge, and that had we not all demanded so much of him (new music, a tour, etc.) he might still be here today.
So here we are, a year since Michael’s death. Typing those words still seems strange, even a year later. It’s hard to believe that he really is gone, especially when you consider just how much Michael Jackson related material has come out in the last year. If anything, with him being bigger than ever, you’d think he *was* still alive and well. It’s been a strange year (for many reasons), but I am comforted by the fact that my prediction has come true. I know many people who since his passing have come to me asking to borrow my CDs, asking to hear the best stuff, the rarities, the stuff only us die-hard fans know about. My ex-girlfriends little brother may have jumped on the “Michael Jackson is Cool Again” bandwagon when it first rolled into town, but even a year later he is still listening, still asking for more, and it’s safe to say has become a fan. Hell, even my baby sister (okay, she’s 19, not really a baby) who used to think I was kind of weird for liking Michael Jackson is sneaking into my room to copy my CDs, and comes to me asking questions about his music and his personal life (she too thinks he was innocent, now that she has all the facts). She demanded I bring home a copy of This Is It so we could watch it. Sure, there will always be those who bring up the allegations, and the eccentricities. Haters will always hate. But the truth is, Michael Jackson will be remembered for the gifts he gave to us all, for his incredible talent, and his beautiful music.
Rolling Stone published a memorial piece which closed by saying something that I, prior to reading, had never thought of. It was something along the lines of:
“He pulled it off, he did what he wanted to achieve. Without penning a single new song, without releasing a single new album or single, without a tour or even a single concert. Without doing anything, Michael Jackson succeeded in having the greatest comeback in musical history. It’s a shame that all it took was his death”. As shocking as it may sound, they were right. In the end, Michael Jackson didn’t have to do anything new. His back catalogue was still just as incredible today as it was when it first came out. He truly did have the greatest comeback in musical history. If only he could be alive today to witness it…
Thank you Michael Jackson, for everything. You’ve been an inspiration to me and millions of others, and you will always be in our hearts.
L.O.V.E.
Long live The King.
that was lovely. Thanks Daniela