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Michael Jackson, renowned singer, dancer and pop culture phenomenon died today due to cardiac arrest. He was only 50 years old.

The LA Times reports: "Los Angeles Fire Department Capt. Steve Ruda told The Times that paramedics responded to a 911 call from the home. When they arrived, Jackson was not breathing. The paramedics performed CPR and took him to UCLA Medical Center, Ruda said."

Michael Jackson's death was strangely felt by me, and in no way do I mean that unkindly. What I mean is that although Farrah Fawcett's and Ed Mcmahan's passing was very saddening news for me they were, in all respect and graciousness, a bit before my time. But not Micheal Jackson.

I actually remember hearing Micheal Jackson's Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' on the radio, I remember in the early 80's my father bought his record Thriller, I even remember dancing to Billie Jean.

In more recent times his choices and way of life drew controversy and skepticism from many people, and of late he often walked the love-hate relationship line with critics who called everything about him into question. Except for one area.

Michael Jackson's talent as a vocalist and entertainer was rarely, if ever, questioned. The King of Pop. That's what they called him, and there was no denying the man could sing, he could dance, and he was arguably one of the best entertainers in our time.

My thoughts and condolences go out to his family and friends.