So Michael Jackson is not going to jail.

Although, from all indications after his just-completed jury trial, he has been there for some time now, anyway.

There's free and there's free.

Much more came out of the four-month trial than Monday's "not guilty" verdict on child-molestation charges. Among other things, we now know Michael Jackson has the spending discipline of Imelda Marcos and Enron combined. The King of Pop is nearly $300 million in debt and that's not counting today's daily interest add-on, which is roughly the value of one-and-a-half Hummers.

You name it, he's used it as collateral on loans, including his own music catalogue, "MyJack," which is valued at $70 million, and the music catalogue he co-owns with Sony of 251 Beatles songs, plus songs from a smattering of other artists, including Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson and Little Richard. His share alone is estimated at $500 million.

Even his Neverland Ranch outside Santa Barbara, valued at $50 million, isn't free and clear. The alpacas, chimpanzees and zebras in the pet portion of the Neverland zoo may not know it, but they're mortgaged too. By December, they could be owned by some New York banker.

The word from the accounting room is that for the past 10 years, Jackson has been spending about $30 million more each year than he's earned. As was noted during the trial, Jackson has been "living like a billionaire on a millionaire's budget."

He's broke and that's no joke.

If he liquidated everything today, he might break even.

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It's enough to make you glad you're not a celebrity.

One day you're selling 50 million copies of "Thriller," to this day the biggest-selling album of all-time. The next you're moonwalking through a sea of troubles.

Michael Jackson's story is not much of a variation on an old theme that enough is never enough. Even when you have it all you can still blow through it in no time. Consider those 251 Beatles songs he bought back in 1986, not long after the sensational 1983 release of "Thriller" and concurrent with the publication of his best-selling book, "Moonwalk" and the signing of a billion-dollar recording contract. Jackson scooped up perpetual royalty rights to the Beatles music for a cool $47 million, which he paid for with pocket change.

The irony there should be obvious — the Beatles hadn't exactly been frugal with their birthright, nor had Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson and Little Richard.