[Red Moon]

Jacko the hobo's worldwide trail of debt

Sitting with a group of friends at Aldo's Italian restaurant in Wyckoff, New Jersey, the small figure in their midst was defending his reputation as a global superstar: "I know it looks like I'm not popular anymore but, trust me, if I wanted attention, I could get it.

"One call and there'd be paparazzi all over the place."

Everyone at the table was silent, shifting awkwardly in their seats.

"I'll make the call now," the man continued, gesturing for a security guard to hand him a phone. "Watch what happens."

It was the final straw. "No. Don't do it, Mike," pleaded one of the diners. "We believe you."

Smiling, the man handed the phone back to his functionary. "OK, but if you ever want me to prove it, just say the word."

It was, to say the least, a curious display from a man who was once the greatest pop talent in the world.

For that anonymous figure in a suburban New Jersey eatery was Michael Jackson - the same man who, 25 years ago this week, took the world by storm with his album Thriller, which went on to sell more than 100 million copies and remains the biggest selling album of all time.

By any normal reckoning, Thriller should have set up Jackson for life. But as he approaches his 50th birthday next year, the one-time superstar is in desperate trouble.

Hugely in debt, he has no recording contract, no real career and no proper home. There have also been rumours of drug abuse.

For the past two years, he and his children ten-year-old Prince, daughter Paris, nine, and five-year-old Prince II (nicknamed Blanket) - have drifted from one country to another.

Their peripatetic existence began as soon as Jackson's court ordeal over charges of child molestation ended.

In May 2005, he was cleared on seven counts of abusing a 14-year-old boy, Gavin Arvizo, in a five-month trial that shone a harsh spotlight on Jackson's peculiar world.

Traumatised by the whole experience, he fled California for Bahrain, where he and his children stayed for about a year with Prince Abdullah, son of the King of Bahrain, who agreed to pay all of the party's expenses.

Then, it was off for a nine-month trip to Japan, England and Ireland, where he was the guest of dancer Michael Flatley.

But his most recent pitstop was, perhaps, the strangest one yet.

In mid-August, Michael Jackson and his three children showed up on the doorstep of his old friends Dominic and Connie Cascio, restaurateurs in upmarket Franklin Lakes, New Jersey.

Michael has known the Cascios since the Eighties, when he practically adopted the family as his own and employed one of their five children.

And though they hadn't seen Jackson since a brief holiday in 2005, the family was - according to one source - "excited when he called and said he wanted to hang out with them again, this time at their home . . .

"The next day, there he was, suitcases in hand, like a hobo with a bunch of kids. It was the strangest thing in the world."

Locals who occasionally spotted the star eating in neighbourhood restaurants were astonished.

But as one source told me last week: "To him, it's just one big adventure. Nothing fazes the guy. He's all about his kids, anyway. As long as he has his kids, he's fine."

While one has to wonder what effect this rootless lifestyle is having on his children, Michael is, by all accounts, a loving father.

"He spends all of his time making sure the children are happy," one former attorney tells me. "They're schooled at home by their nanny, Grace Rwaramba.

"All three treat Grace, who is from Rwanda, as they would a mum. They love her madly. Michael does, too. He's a big kid himself and plays silly games with the kids.

He's also strict - they're well-mannered. He doesn't let them out of his sight."

But what about the fact that the children are usually camouflaged in scarves and ornate masks whenever they appear in public?

Jackson's defenders insist that they are so used to it they think of it as just another of daddy's "silly games". They also point out that Jackson is desperate to shield them from kidnap.

But as one security adviser to the stars says: "To a certain extent, his tactics seem to be more about his ego than about security.

It's as if he wants the public's perception to be that he's a bigger star than anyone else has ever been in history - so big that he has no choice but to take drastic measures to protect his children.

"If anything, his tactics bring more attention to the kids, not less. The fact that he sometimes goes around wearing traditional Muslim garb suggests to me that it's about creating a spectacle around himself, not about security. He's like a kid wanting attention. Only he's not a kid, is he?"

It seems like just yesterday when he was a kid, though. I well remember the summer of 1981 when I was invited to watch Quincy Jones produce a new recording by Michael at the Westlake Studios in Los Angeles.

At the time, I was a fledgling reporter working for a black newspaper called Soul magazine.

When I got to the studio, Jones was at the console with recording engineer Bruce Swedien. The two were bobbing their heads and snapping their fingers to the musical track of Thriller.

The sound was incredible: all bass, guitars and horns. But no Michael Jackson, yet - just the music.

"This song is going to be a hit," Jones told me. "When Michael lays down his vocals, this thing will blow up."

As Jones spoke, Jackson sauntered into the studio. At 23, he was just a wisp of a young man, wearing a baseball cap in a jaunty way, and sunglasses, though it was night.

Friendly and outgoing, he was nothing like the elusive and enigmatic Michael we now know.

"Sure, you can stay and watch," he told me. "But you can never write about it. That's the way it has to be. OK?"

I protested, of course: but in the end I agreed. And until now, I kept my promise.

Actually, not much happened that night anyway. Jackson recorded a few bars of Thriller, then said he had a cold and couldn't hit the right notes and left.

Over the years, I've often thought about that evening, for the eventual global success of Thriller turned out to be a blessing and a curse to Jackson.

Having written two biographies of the star, I witnessed at close hand how the sheer scale of the Thriller phenomenon forced Jackson to deal with a level of scrutiny for which he was ill-prepared.

He became reclusive and strange. He resorted to plastic surgery. He developed a fascination with young boys.

Then, as we all know, he was accused of sexual molestation - first, in 1993 by Jordie Chandler (he settled that case for more than £10 million), and then, ten years later, by Gavin Arvizo, which led to the criminal charges against him.

I attended every day of Jackson's trial, sitting directly behind him. And when he was finally acquitted - leaving the courtroom a free man but with his reputation in tatters - I hoped Jackson would go on to lead a more responsible life.

The signs are not encouraging. For Jackson seems to have no conscience at all when it comes to confronting his financial obligations.

It's as if he feels that people don't require payment for their services. That's why so many who work for him - attorneys, business managers, accountants - usually end up suing him for payment.

Such litigation often drags on for years, with Jackson finally losing the case. But even then, the victor has to queue and wait for payment of the judgment - which seldom occurs.

Even Prince Abdullah, the royal who bailed out Michael by giving him a place to live in exile after the trial, has fallen out with his old friend over unpaid debts.

As Roger Freidman, an American journalist who is one of the foremost authorities on Jackson's finances, explains: "For one year, the prince underwrote Jackson's life in Bahrain - everything including living accommodation, guests, security and transportation.

"The prince built Jackson a state of the art recording studio and gave him a £3.5 million advance to record two albums.

"And what did Jackson do? He left for Japan and then Ireland. He took the money and moonwalked right out the door.

"This is the real Michael Jackson. He has never returned a phone call from the prince since he left Bahrain."

Prince Abdullah is suing Jackson in London's High Court, seeking the return of his £3.5 million, plus damages.

But perhaps the greatest worry for Jackson is the £11.5 million loan that he secured against his Neverland ranch to help pay for his legal bills and extravagant lifestyle.

He has just six weeks to pay back the loan to a company named Fortress Investments or Neverland will be put up for sale to the highest bidder.

Yet, strangely, that prospect does not alarm Jackson. For while Neverland, with its private fairground and menagerie of animals, was once his most treasured possession, it means nothing to him now.

He's been back only once since the trial ended - and that was just to pack his things and leave for good.

Today, Neverland is in such disrepair that it would take millions just to get the place back in shape. And even if Jackson's advisers find a way to save it, he doesn't want to live there.

"It's best to just let Fortress be stuck with it," notes one person in Jackson's camp.

"What effect will the forced sale have on Michael Jackson? Ruin his credit? That ship sailed a long time ago."

If such behaviour seems reckless, even by Jacko's standards, then what many fail to appreciate is that he already feels he escaped a fate worse than death: a life behind bars.

That prospect truly terrified him. He knew he would never be able to cope inside.

After the trial, he went into intensive private therapy to come to terms with the public humiliation. But, finally, he came to the conclusion that whatever problems he faced in the future could only pale in comparison to what might have been.

So he decided to focus on his children and on his freedom, and not worry about any practical matters such as where he was going to live or how he was going to pay for it.

The result has been a near-total meltdown of his financial affairs.

One of his business advisers relayed a story to me that is highly revealing. A couple of months ago, he and Jackson had a meeting in Las Vegas to discuss his finances.

In order even to book the meeting, the adviser had to tell the singer that it concerned a possible music deal.

Only once he had Jackson in a chair in front of him did he reveal his real intention. He laid out the dismal situation regarding various lawsuits, settlements and default notices.

As he did so, Jackson stared at him over his reading glasses, his expression blank.

Finally, Jackson said: "Are you finished?" The adviser said "Yes."

Michael then said: "Fine. Work it out, then, will you, please? I've got things to do." And he got up and left.

So how does Michael Jackson survive? And where does he get his money from?

In fact, savings and royalties continue to support his lifestyle. There is also the money generated by his 50 per cent interest in Sony/ATV Music Publishing, which includes much of The Beatles' catalogue.

His lawyers may claim that Jackson doesn't have the money to settle his debts - but, in fact, he spends about £500,000 a month on his lavish lifestyle.

Moreover, if he sold the Sony/ATV catalogue today, Michael's share would bring him £250 million.

Jackson already has a £160million loan secured against that share. But even if that amount was deducted - together with all the other outstanding settlements - he'd still be left with well over £50million.

That's obviously a huge sum, but at the rate Jackson goes through money, it would last him, perhaps, eight years. And what then? Release another album?

Cynics say there's no way he could ever get a recording contract. They say he presents such a liability these days that no one would ever want to sign him.

But while that may be the case in the U.S., Jackson has sold more than 750 million records worldwide.

There would be many international labels who would be only too happy to sign him up, if that is what he really wanted.

The trouble is that Jackson so loathed his final years with Sony that he never again wants to feel enslaved to a record label.

As for persistent rumours that he will reunite with his brothers for a Jackson family reunion tour, that's simply not going to happen. He's not interested in touring.

"He feels he's done it all," says one of his attorneys. "He's not going to spend his 50s killing himself on the road."

His brothers sense a more sinister influence at work.

They are upset about the increasing dependence Michael has on his children's nanny, Grace Rwaramba, and fear that she's been keeping them from him.

"We have to get him away from her," Jermaine Jackson has fretted.

Some family members even believe that Michael has a serious drug problem and needs immediate attention.

But sources inside Jackson's camp tell me that though he did, indeed, once have a serious dependency on painkillers, he has managed to kick the habit.

"He's clear-eyed and not on any kind of drugs at this time,' one intimate insists. 'That problem is well behind him. It was a consequence of the trial."

Black leader the Rev Jesse Jackson, who saw Jackson a few months ago, confirms: "He was healthy, spry and effervescent when I saw him."

Indeed, some friends insist that despite all the woes that surround him, Michael has never been happier.

Unlikely as it may seem, I suspect they may be right.

For rootless and rudderless as he is, Jackson has retreated to the only place where he still feels safe - a place where the reality of his existence cannot haunt him, a home he can take anywhere in the world and where even his closest family cannot intrude.

It's called fool's paradise.

Source and Pictures: Daily Mail