Prince: A Reflection on Me, Prince, Me, and I.

When it comes to Prince, and it does come to Prince, there are so many things that we could say he is and was: singing, a purple, musics, sexy guy, my cousin Gary, a guitar haver, Mr. Ruffly Shirt, and great. But ultimately, Prince is about me and my experiences and how he helped me to be me and I’m healthy and that’s why I want people to read the important things I have to say oh please oh please oh Prince.

When Prince was very young, growing up young as a youth in St Paul, he always knew he would write The Purple Rain and one day when he was young, he did exactly that and no one could stop him or tried. “Hey, I know,” he said to Aplomonia, his friend, “Let’s make a movie and call it The Purple Rain.” And that was the first time anyone had ever heard of Prince, including himself. The Purple Rain was a huge success and there is no denying what it meant to both the world and the Lake Minnetonka purification industry.

But The Purple Rain was not just an inspirational anthem for people who wanted the rain to be a certain way* (*purple), it was a punishment for awkward teenagers attempting slow dances at school dances held in their school cafetoriums. Later, he released Little Red Corvette, a song. Or was it?!

Yes. It was.

However, getting back to me, which is what this essay and Prince are really about, Prince was my helper. He gave me courage to be who I was and freedom to be who I always am or was be. He gave me wisdom. He gave me peace of mind. He gave me a sheet of paper in math class while he was still known as “Ricky Findlay from my math class”, and that’s why I’m so awesome. Prince had a message for everyone who felt a little unusual, a little outside the norm, or a little unusually outside the norm. And that message was: it’s not just okay to be different, it’s beautiful, and it helps if you’re sexy like me and absurdly talented. How true that is.

It’s hard to imagine a world without Prince but then again I don’t have to because he’s gone now and I’m looking out the window and can see that world. It’s full of cars and buildings and people and everything. Lookit.

Prince solved the y2k crisis with his song, “1999” and he solved both the hat and fruit crises with the song, “Raspberry Beret.”

He was an innovator in the studio, playing all the instruments on such albums as The Purple Rain, The One Where He’s In Underwear And A Jacket And I Wonder If He’s Too Cold Or Too Hot, Newspaper Headlines, Sign Peace The Times, and There Must Be Other Albums. He played all the instruments by running very fast. He was the fastest Prince of all the princes and he defeated Prince Charles in both a footrace and a fistfight.

But again: I listened to Prince, which makes me more important than Prince.

Everyone has their one great story about the time they met Prince and I do too just like everyone. I was looking through my record collection when I spotted a diminuitive and elegantly dressed man on a record. “Hello, Prince,” I said. “Are you Prince?” He just smiled and stayed perfectly still and didn’t say a word. I knew that meant he found me enormously attractive but didn’t want other people nearby like Cher, Bon Jovi, and Steve Miller Band to interfere with our relationship. I left him standing there perfectly still and that’s where he still stands today in my crate of records in the shed because Prince never really leaves us. At least he never really leaves me, which is what this essay and also Prince are really about.

And even though he has passed away, we will always have songs like “Let’s Go Crazy”, “Batdance”, “U Got the Look”, “Alan Parsons Project”, “Kiss”, and the one about the Minnesota Vikings which is a real song that happened. Also, the song “My Name Is Prince”, which some would say he was born to sing.

He invented funkiness. He came up with the formula for sex and patented it and you have to credit him every time. He hated writing “to” and “you” and now the government says we have to write them as “2” and “u” and that’s the law and u can’t do anything about it. 2. But most importantly: me, though.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.