when the elevator tries to break you down…
had a really productive day planned around here…was gonna write a nice big post about POWER FLOW 120 on sunday.
what the what the what the what the what?
so, of course there had to be a JAM. immediately. like tonight. at 5:45. stop everything.
and then, the texts and the Facebook messages and the calls started coming in: students requesting JAMs, friends making sure i was ok and more friends sharing stories about Prince memories we’d shared.
and it hit me…
or so many of us, throughout our lives, finding another human creature who adored Prince meant we’d found our tribe. someone we could let down our guard with…someone we could have fun with…someone who understood.
from hiding my Purple Rain bootleg (thanks Sara Peterson) in an “Annie” cassette case so that my mom wouldn’t find it (and explain in excruciatingly scientific terms what he was singing about)…
…to explaining camel to a room full of yogis who knew exactly what it meant when i said “and then white doves fly out of your chest, like a Prince video”
…to the 40 DAYS celebration dance parties started with Let’s Go Crazy…watching 30 of your sweatiest friends’ air guitar to that solo is one of life’s great pleasures.
…to a pull-you-out-of-the-pit-of-despair mix CD made from a friend who knew that “Cream” in the center would bring a smile on the darkest of days.
all his talent and virtuosity and originality and courage to be different notwithstanding, the word that comes to mind when i think of Prince is fun.
let’s have some.