Everybody knows Janet Jackson can sing and dance;
two skills that have made her enviably rich. But she's
also go the loveliest laugh. Listen to "Got Til It's
Gone," the hit single from 1998's Velvet Rope, when
she asks Q-Tip what's the next song. And he say's,
"It's the song about me." That unmistakable laugh is
there - melodious and sparkling, like rain hitting a
river. The fact that she's in the midst of a media
scandal - revelations of a secret marriage to dancer/
director Rene Elizondo and what promises to be an ugly
divorce - doesn't stop the laughter. "What I love the
most is that I'm growing. I'm happier than I've ever
been," Jackson says, flashing her trademark smile. She
then goes on to a list a few of her favorite things:
hanging out with her close friends, being back in the
dating game, having fun costarring with Eddie Murphy
in Nutty Professor II: The Klumps.
But Janet wouldn't be a Jackson if there weren't
some sort of controversy brewing. From allegations of
Michael's sexual abuse to LaToya's well-known
eccentricities, Janet was always "the normal one."
Remarkably straightforward, not into sugarcoating the
truth, Jackson has weathered this kind of media storm
before. She is what southerners call a steel magnolia:
a beautiful flower with a core of pure strength. "Put
me in check," she tells friends. "Because I will
definitely do it to you." She knows the press can't
help but focus on the fact that her marriage was a
secret, but it's not a decision she laments with shame
or regret. "I wanted to have a normal family life,"
she says simply. "Since I was a child, my personal
life has been lived in the public eye."
The thing that amazes me most about Jackson is that
when you're with her, you can easily forget that she's
"Janet Jackson: Pop Superstar/Icon." We first met on
the set of John Singleton's Poetic Justice, her first
film, in 1993. I was writing a making-of-the-movie
book, Poetic Justice: Filmmaking South Central Style.
We probably only spoke a handful of times. Then three
years ago, we became friends. What I love about her is
the way she can morph into sister-girl mode in a New
York minute. Immediately after greeting each other
with hugs, we're reeling off about the potentially
troublesome brother I'm scooping, the joy of shopping
(or as she says, "doing a little damage on the credit
card") and how much we both adore Miami.
"I love the Latin culture," I say. "It's everywhere
down there, not to mention all the Latino men."
Jackson smiles mischievously, "I know what you mean,
I could get into some serious trouble down there."
The conversation moves on to our respective homes.
She's just moved into a mansion in West Los Angeles,
that's still under construction. I'm renovating my
tiny one-bedroom in Brooklyn. I pull out a copy of
Elle Decor to show her what I have in mind, and she's
loving it. "That's beautiful," she says, "really fresh
and modern." It doesn't seem to matter that since
signing a $70-million deal with Virgin Records in
1996, her net worth has sky-rocketed beyond belief, or
that I grew up in East Flatbush so poor that we were
always begging the landlord for heat. Honeygirl, on the
other hand, owns a Picasso in her drop-dead New York
apartment, where she's increasingly spending more
time. There's always this sense that she's not
thinking about your bank account or your family, she's
just dealing with you as a person who is her
friend-and she'd appreciate it if you did the same.
When Jackson comes to pick me up at my hotel in Los
Angeles, she comes alone, without bodyguards. "You
can't have a private conversation with security
around," she explains. Her family would prefer if she
didn't take such chances, but she doesn't want to live
as a pop princess, ensconced in a castle she can't
escape. Clad in a black baseball cap and a Spelman
College sweatshirt, the Grammy-winning superstar could
easily pass for a graduate student forum nearby UCLA.
Sans makeup, she's mad casual. The first question she
asks is, "Are you hungry? Do you want to get
something to eat?" When I say no, she says, "Cool,
let's go for a drive."
In my naivete, I suggest we go to the beach. But
it's a holiday weekend and once there, I'm sorry we
came. It's flooded with people, and reality hits.
Janet Jackson simply cannot appear on a crowded beach
and expect folks to leave her alone. We make a turn
onto Pacific Coast Highway to find somewhere more
isolated and get stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
"Forget about the beach," I say. "I don't want us in
a traffic jam."
It's a beautiful day, so we end up cruising around
Los Angeles, bumping tunes and talking. She talks
excitedly about starring in Nutty Professor II: The
Klumps. "It's a dream to work opposite Eddie," she
says. "He's so awesome, just a genius. I'm not using
that word lightly. It's genius what he does," Jackson
was content to let Murphy do what he does, even though
that meant she wouldn't get laughs. "I'm not funny in
it; I'm just a straightman," she says. "But I had the
best time. It was hard to keep a straight face. I'd
try to hide my laughter, but I couldn't help it. I was
hating the fact it was going to be over."
Despite her new movie, Jackson still feels the sting
of not getting to play the role closet to her heart -
that of 1950's film star Dorothey Dandridge,
Hollywood's premier black leading lady and the first
black woman nominated for an Oscar as Best Actress.
Dandridge's soap opera-worth life, full of glitz,
glamour, heartbreak - and, yes, drama - was the stuff
of Tinseltown legend. It created a virtual stampede by
today's top black actresses to land the plum role. At
one point, Jackson, Whitney Houston and Halle Berry
all had projects on Dandridge in development. Berry
prevailed, however, starring in a 1999 HBO film for
which she earned both Golden Globe and Screen Actor's
Guild awards.
Jackson, understandably, was disappointed that her
project did not come to fruition first. She had
devoted more than two decades of her life to
Dandridge's - visiting her apartment on Fountain
Street in North Hollywood and even hiring a
screenwriter to do research with Dorothy Dandridge,"
she says. "When I was 14 and doing Diff'rent Strokes,
I wrote her manager. He sent me photographs of her.
Talk about excited."
"Maybe I shouldn't say this," she adds. "But a lot
of friends said it was because of me speaking about
Dorothy in interviews that created interest."
Let's be clear, though: Janet Jackson is not
playa--hatin' on Halle Berry. "I truly am happy that
someone did it" says Jackson, though she has yet to
see the HBO film. "For her to take it where she did,
producing it and being nominated and winning. Some
people might say 'What a bunch of bullsh*t,' but it is
the truth. My goal was for people to know who Dorothy
Dandridge is. Now they do."
Like Dandridge - who gave birth to a severely
retarded daughter and endured racism, failed marriages
and even bankruptcy - Jackson has had her own share of
personal challenges and stress. A marriage at age 18
to singer James DeBarge was painfully ruptured by his
cocaine addiction. She was a 20-year-old divorcee when
she hooked up with Elizondo. The two wed discreetly in
1991 and are now in the midst of a nasty divorce she
won't discuss. Nor will she talk publicly about other
rumors regarding her personal life. Manley Freid,
Elizondo's attorney, says his client is hoping for "a
[settlement] figure that's reasonable."
Jackson, meanwhile, is savoring the single life.
When I tell her I imagine it must be hard for a
celebrity of her stature to have a social life, she
just shrugs, commenting that men aren't as intimidated
by her as they used to be "I've been asked out by a
few guys," she says with a smile. "In the past, I was
never asked out. If I was interested in somebody, I'd
have to ask them. If I was to wait around for dates,
then forget it." Two failed marriages would wreak
havoc on the self-esteem of many a woman, but
everything about Jackson suggests a woman who is
coming into her own. Years ago, she made her mark with
a song called "Control." Now she lives it. Now 34,
Janet Jackson is clearly running her own show.
Yet for all she's achieved, the simple things many
women take for granted are new to her. "You know, I
probably seem like a 3-year-old with all this, but I
never dated," she explains. "I got married when I was
18. Then I wanted to move out on my own, but my mother
asked me to move back home, so I did. Rene and I
started seeing each other, and we moved in together.
And there I was again. This is my first time living on
my own and dating."
Jackson says her friends are always weighing in on
her love life, and she loves it. After being married,
it's fun to engage in the post-date breakdown with
your girls. Her friends, she says, worry that all
those years sequestered in marriage have made her a
little naive about love. "I don't think I'm as naive
as they think," she says. " Granted, about some
things, yes. But not everything."
Her willingness to be honest about what she's
learned about love and life makes Jackson's music so
popular with Honeygirls of every hue. "Young women -
black girls, especially - identified with my music
ever since Control," Jackson says. "It was like
finally they heard someone speak about things they
could relate to, what they've gone through."
Today's airwaves are flooded with contenders for the
R&B diva throne, but Jackson stays in the hunt by
continually reinventing herself musically. "It boils
down to what I've done in my career," she says, "that
stems from how I was raised and the music I was
listening to. It wasn't strictly R&B. It was so
eclectic, such a mesh of different sounds.
Incorporating that into my music - being able to do
something funky, then doing something more pop -
people hear that. I can work with Joni Mitchell, then
turn around and work with Busta [Rhymes] or Chuck D.
or Tip. I think it's accepted from me because it's who
I am. I'm not trying to be something I'm not."
We're still cruising in her car, listening to a tune
with pumping bass. Janet snaps her fingers
appreciatively as she leans in to listen to the male
singer's sexy voice. "Who is that?" she asks, with a
smile on her lips.
"Joe?" I offer.
"I don't think so, I was listening to that album the
other day," she says. "This song [we never do figure
out the artist] has got such a New York sound."
Jackson grew up in Southern California but seems to be
more in a New York state of mind lately. She's
purchased a place in the Big Apple and is now closer
to all her friends in the city, especially one in
particular: Q-Tip. Although the news about her
marriage is out, Janet isn't trying to put her
business in the street. She insists she and Q-Tip are
just friends. But this friendship is one that, clearly,
makes her soul sing. Mention Q-Tip and she smiles a
little broader. "I love him so much!" Jackson says.
"He's so special to me. Before we even recorded the
song together, we were talking almost every day on the
phone. Sometimes [we were] talking about nothing or a
bunch of nothing - sometimes getting not really
serious issues. We're really close."
The two met on the set of Poetic Justice. Jackson
played Justice, the poetry-writing hairdresser from
South Central who fell in love with the late Tupac
Shakur's character. Tip played her gangbanger
boyfriend who was murdered in front of her eyes. Tip
and Jackson only had one scene together, but it didn't
lack for sizzle. She won't say, but my guess is that
back on the set Mr. Tip slipped her a little tongue
while she was still a (secretly) married woman. "I've
got to mention that kiss to him one day," she says
with a smirk. "I've got to ask him what was going
through his head."
Rumors aside, Jackson's not even trying to be
serious about a man right now. She's having too much
fun. "A few guys have asked me to marry them," she
says. "We don't even know each other! I'm looking at
them like, 'OK, you must be drunk.' They're like, "No,
I'm dead serious.'" Would she walk down the aisle
again? She contemplates the notion, finally saying,
softly, "I don't think I'll get married again." But
since Miss Jackson is a never-say-never sort of woman,
she corrects herself: "Maybe, I don't know. But I'm
not even thinking about that. I'm just having a
wonderful time dating and being with my friends."