At the risk of adding to the Michael Jackson overload we've experienced since his death last Thursday in Los Angeles -- 24 hours a day on TV and in most newspapers for almost a week -- I'm going to admit I'd been a Jackson fan for almost 40 years.

He is one of just a relatively small handful of stars in the movie and music industries whom I've admired -- but for his music, songwriting and dance talent only.

As an entertainer, Jackson, 50, had almost no peers. Elvis comes to mind. So does Garth Brooks. And maybe two or three others. That's it.

That said, I did not idolize the man.

I idolized Hank Aaron, Ernie Banks, Brooks Robinson and Al Kaline. I idolized Paul Newman, the actor. I idolized Johnny Unitas and Dr. J (Julius Erving). I idolized Jackie Robinson.

But I did not idolize Michael Jackson.

Beyond music, the rest of his life was an awful mess, frankly, and very little about it -- except for his humanitarian and charitable efforts, which were substantial -- merits my applause.

But he was one heck of a songwriter. In my mind, that might have been his greatest gift.

And the man could dance. Better than anyone I've ever seen. He was an innovator, not an imitator. I still recall the night I, and millions of others, witnessed Jackson doing the moonwalk for the first time on TV. It was mesmerizing. The hair stood up on the back of my neck.

Rare, too, is the singer whose music stands the test of time. Jackson's does. And will. Consider his hits from 20

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and 30 years ago, and they'd nearly all be as successful today. Some, perhaps, more successful. His first solo hit -- "Ben," from 1972, about a boy's love for a rat -- would sell as well today as it did 37 years ago. I'm certain of it.

And the same can be said, I believe, of just about all of his No. 1 hits since 1969 -- that would be 18 in all.

His MTV work -- all 33 of them -- was superior, as well. It doesn't get much better, not even today, than "Billie Jean," "Beat It," "Thriller," "Bad," "Man in the Mirror," and "The Way You Make Me Feel."

Except for one -- "Black or White" -- from 1991.

That's the video where dancers' heads morphed one into another, dancers of different races, different ethnicities, to prove that "it don't matter if you're black or white."

It was (is) my favorite. By a mile.

More importantly, however, it was the impetus for an unbelievable change of mind and heart in a man I knew many years ago. No names here for obvious reasons. But he was known for his racist comments, his racist points of view, his persistently racist attitude about anyone who didn't have white skin.

And it wasn't just against blacks. He didn't much care for Hispanics, Cubans, Asians, European Indians, Middle Easterners, American Indians or anyone whose skin was two shades darker than his. He was even suspicious of Italians and Greeks who had olive-colored skin.

Character was never an issue, because he'd make no effort to judge a person of color on that basis. He could never get past the skin color.

Then one day he happened to see the "Black or White" video on TV. Then again. And again. Dozens of times over a period of weeks and months. And slowly, but surely, a miracle of change took place.

Had I not seen it, I would not have believed it. Finally, something clicked in his head. Finally, he began to see people beyond the color of their skin.

More than once I asked him about the change of heart. And every time, without hesitation, he credited the "Black or White" video.

All the talking in the world hadn't worked. All the reasoning. All the lecturing. All the brow-beating. None of that worked. He'd spent the first 60 years of his life a redneck racist.

But he's spent the last 15-plus years a changed man.

Michael Jackson's video worked.

"Protection for gangs, clubs and nations

Causing grief in human relations

It's a turf war on a global scale

I'd rather hear both sides of the tale

See, it's not about races, just places, faces

Where your blood comes from

Is where your space is

I've seen the bright get duller

I'm not going to spend my life being a color

... It don't matter if you're black or white."
Somehow it sank in. And it stuck.

It don't matter if you're black or white.

I can't explain it. I don't care to even try.

All I know is a change took place in this person, an important change, and it was the creative genius of Michael Jackson that brought it about.

That's worth something to me.

If for no other reason than that, Jackson's earned my appreciation.

Columns by Larry A. Hicks, Dispatch columnist, run Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. E-mail: lhicks@yorkdispatch.com.