My 8-year old cousin Trina never heard of Michael Jackson—until he died, of course, and was once again all over: every TV screen, computer monitor and magazine/tabloid cover.

As expected, she was intrigued, mesmerized, and eventually (after approximately an hour or so), addicted to the King of Pop. In fact, after seeing a performance, Trina told her mother, “I think I have a new idol.”

She is so into him that the DVD of a Michael Jackson concert, which was gathering dust on the shelf for quite a while, suddenly became the most played DVD in the house for a little over a week now. She is so into him that she now knows most of the pop star’s singles, and could even name-that-Michael-Jackson-tune in no more than 7 notes or so.

Trina is so in like with Michael that her thirst for him has been insatiable. She wants more DVDs of his concerts. She wants to learn more of his songs. She wants to know more about him.

Last Sunday, while we were all watching the King of Pop’s concert in Bucharest (or was that Budapest?), Trina all of a sudden blurted, “Ma, how big is Michael Jackson’s brain?

Clearly, someone thinks that the King of Pop is such a genius that he just has to have a humongous brain.

Photo credit: Kevin Mazur and AEG via Getty Images