Thursday, April 21, 2016

Parties Weren't Meant To Last

There is nothing I can say here that hasn't been said better a thousand times today in the countless articles and Facebook posts I've read about Prince's passing, but like most of you I feel the need to say me, too. 
Me, too. 

How silly it is to feel so crushed by the death of someone I never really knew, but there it is. I am crushed. Silly sad and mournful because while I never knew Prince, his music helped me know myself. 

(Purple Rain? How many countless nights I fell asleep listening to Purple Rain on my Walkman thinking about slow dancing with boys. When You Were Mine. Starfish & Coffee is still my very favorite song to walk around and sing out loud. Don't even get me started on Darling Nikki, how I wondered for years if he met her in a hotel lobby masturbating with a magazine meant she was looking at a sexy magazine while sitting on some sort of couch in the lobby? Or if she was maybe rubbing the magazine against herself? The logistics, I thought about the logistics far too much when I was younger. I mean, I guess I still don't exactly know the involvement of the magazine.)

Like I said, none of this is new. If you grew up in the 80s and 90s, then Prince surely had a role in your sexual awakening. Wendy? Yes Lisa. Is the water warm enough? Yes Lisa. Shall we begin? Yes Lisa. How could it not?

I have hinted at my love for Prince before, how gifable his eyes were back when we thought that just meant fuckable. He was my spirit animal, that funny sexy little man with the world's best side eye.

Now here we are and he is gone. Suddenly, and nothing feels right. I started a new job this past week which might feel like a non sequitur but it's not. Right. Yet. Nothing is, how for the past few weeks it has felt like the change of something consequential which is maybe why I haven't been writing here. Zoey turns 10 this weekend. 10. I swear that, too, happened suddenly, and I don't know who to eat lunch with at work, who to tell my jokes to, who to say stop. Did you hear? Prince died. Fuck. This can't be right. 

None of it.



Gabrielle said...

Oh, how I've missed you. Perfect post.

Anonymous said...

What a wonderful essay; thanks for sharing your memories. It's shocking - only 57. He was ageless. And a genius. Truly irreplaceable.

The photo at the top of your post was taken about a block from where I'm sitting, at work. Minneapolis is just stunned. One of my co-workers, crying, left early yesterday to join the vigil (and presumably the later all-night dance party) at First Avenue.

I hope you find some people at your new office with whom you can bond during awful times. It truly helps us feel less alone.

Buff said...

best post ever!

Anonymous said...

What an amazing man.

Anonymous said...

Prince's music was the soundtrack to my mid-20s. He was only a year and a half older than me, and his death makes me think of the mortality we all must face.

He was also the only celebrity who appeared in my dreams, in an X-rated way, and I still blush thinking about that.

Thank you for this and I hope you and your new job start to warm up to each other soon!

Anonymous said...

This is very cool:

75-Year-Old North Dakota Farmer Plows Massive Prince Symbol Into His Field