One could look at Jackson this way, splitting the two Jacksons up to Michael and that other crazy dude who dangled his baby from a hotel balcony once. Hard to be objective.

I can appreciate John Coltrane without the heroin. Miles Davis without the cocaine. Kurt Cobain without the whining (and more heroin). Walt Whitman without the gay overtones. Elvis without the peanut butter and painkillers and Lennon without Yoko.

Maybe in time, we can remember Michael without the wacko.

n One of Nate Smith’s dream jobs is to be a music critic for Rolling Stone. It’s too bad he can’t play a lick of guitar.

E-mail him at nsmith@washtimesherald.com.