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Michael's knocking on your door..

Amber Dawn

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:wild: Reading again Katherines book about her family. I find it interesting she mentions that Michael still participated in field work. Although sometimes he wore disguises I wonder if Michael ever knocked on the door of one of his biggest fans. I'd defintly invite them into my living room for some lemonade and cookies and not take my eyes off of Michael's beutiful brown eyes..

.. ((sigh))
if only..
 
Amber Dawn said:
:wild: Reading again Katherines book about her family. I find it interesting she mentions that Michael still participated in field work. Although sometimes he wore disguises I wonder if Michael ever knocked on the door of one of his biggest fans. I'd defintly invite them into my living room for some lemonade and cookies and not take my eyes off of Michael's beutiful brown eyes..

.. ((sigh))
if only..
Click to expand...

He he!

I think we'd all give him more than lemonade and cookies though ;)
 
This quote is taken from Michael´s essay "My Childhood, My Sabbath, My Freedom…" Here he talks about knocking on doors and his disguises... :) :)


Sundays were my day for “Pioneering,” the term used for the missionary work that Jehovah’s Witnesses do. We would spend the day in the suburbs of Southern California, going door to door or making the rounds of a shopping mall, distributing our Watchtower magazine. I continued my pioneering work for years and years after my career had been launched.

Up to 1991, the time of my Dangerous tour, I would don my disguise of fat suit, wig, beard, and glasses and head off to live in the land of everyday America, visiting shopping plazas and tract homes in the suburbs. I loved to set foot in all those houses and catch sight of the shag rugs and La-Z-Boy armchairs with kids playing Monopoly and grandmas baby-sitting and all those wonderfully ordinary and, to me, magical scenes of life. Many, I know, would argue that these things seem like no big deal. But to me they were positively fascinating.

The funny thing is, no adults ever suspected who this strange bearded man was. But the children, with their extra intuition, knew right away. Like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, I would find myself trailed by eight or nine children by my second round of the shopping mall. They would follow and whisper and giggle, but they wouldn’t reveal my secret to their parents. They were my little aides. Hey, maybe you bought a magazine from me. Now you’re wondering, right?

 
Oh no, here I go into imagination mode again. :ph34r: :lol:. I'd let him in and secretly lock the door. I wouldn't let him leave. After some hours I guess his security would knock me out with a tranquilizer dart or something, so then he'd escape out the window. :ph34r: This is all what would happen if I saw through his disguise of course.
 
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