Paisley Park via LisaLand

I’ve seen a little kvetching on the interwebs bemoaning how much attention Prince’s death has garnered. I know in some circles, obviously not mine, Merle Haggard’s recent death, (or was it Waylon Jennings?) also got a lot of attention. Yes, that should tell you how big a country music fan I am although in my defense I was bummed when the Man in Black died. While I get that we are a celebrity obsessed society, I think their deaths have an impact on those of us who were fans not because we knew them (I’m sad to say I never even saw Prince in concert – at least I don’t think I did, Andrea might have to confirm that for me) but because of the role their music played in our lives. And I think the music you listened to between the ages of 13 and 22 tends to have the greatest influence. My theory is because we were giant balls of raging hormones and emotions, everything was felt to a greater extent at that point in our lives. I’d probably be similarly bummed if Billy Corgan or Eddie Vedder died but more because we are of a comparable age and it reflects my own mortality rather than the number of memories I have tied to specific songs.

I haven’t thought about Whirla Whip, the ice cream shop I worked at (and the last place I should have worked at next to a shoe store) in ages, but all of the sudden the memory of Stephie Pistone (or was it the other girl who went to North?) coming in to start her shift with her brand new Purple Rain album resurfaced in my brain. We oohed and aahed over the cover. Funny how I remember the moment and the album better than who I was with at the time. I loved how Prince had female band members that played more than the tambourine. And I even forgave him for the fact that band-mate Wendy, and not Lisa, was the pretty one in The Revolution.

I recall forgetting the PR cassette in a boy’s car that I’d been kissing. When I saw him a month later I tried to race down his car to get that cassette back like it was the last one ever made. I’m sure he thought I was homicidal or at least deranged and had no idea that all I wanted was my tape back, although I probably would have kissed him again if I’d had the chance, while I’m pretty sure he was thinking more along the lines of multiple restraining orders.

I can specifically recall sun bathing in the back yard of our Erskine Street house listening to “1999,” calculating how old I would be on New Year’s Eve of 1999, and being horribly disappointed that, at the ripe old age of 32, I would be much too old to be out partying.

I was bummed when David Bowie died; I was a definite fan and had some memories tied to him as well, but not the sheer volume that Prince’s death has generated. Of course my favorite Bowie memory involved seeing my first porn spoof. The end of “Flesh Gordon” was playing at a Salt Lake City movie house as my friend and I waited for the Ziggy Stardust documentary to begin. I’d kind of like to see a minute of FG again to see if it was as bad as I remember – I swear the spaceships were made by a high school drama department while the acting was performed people who’d never taken high school drama.

I watched and recorded more MTV Thursday night than I probably have in the past two decades and have reminisced with friends about Prince’s passing, most of whom were also near high school age when 1999 and PR came out. Granted I haven’t gone through a horrible loss or divorce and perhaps there would be musicicians that I would be very drawn to who helped me get through those hard times. Evidently the death of a cat isn’t as scarring as I’d thought. Sorry Gunther and Thor but I don’t recall listening to 4 Non Blondes and weeping for days.

I was visiting a vendor outside of Minneapolis about five years ago and they very proudly pointed out that if you looked through a particular window and squinted, you could see Paisley Park. They definitely took pride in the fact that he had chosen to stay in Minnesota, which is just another indication of how eccentric he was, if you ask me.  😉

So I’ve appreciated all of the Facebook posts and news coverage of his death. It’s made me sad that such a talent is gone too soon but also allowed me to relive so much. To this day I can’t listen to “I Would Die 4 U” without doing the hand gestures and I still find a guilty pleasure in listening to “Darling Nikki” and hoping my mother doesn’t EVER hear the lyrics. So while Prince will not grow old, I will not grow up.