Purple Elvis

Occasionally, I will chide my Dad for making an off-color or seemingly 'racist' remark.  My Dad's invariable shot back is something to the effect of, "Hey I'm not racist, when I took your Mom (my Dad's now ex-wife) to see Purple Rain, I was the only white guy in the theatre!"

And in 1984, that was probably true. 

By now we all are probably familiar with the fact that Prince Rogers Nelson passed away at his home in Chanhassen, Minnesota last week.  Many of us may not have even known he had a middle or last name. To my generation, he was simply...Prince.  All you needed was that one word. Just that word usually conjured up the image of a man of slight stature, clad in sequined purple, armed with a guitar and absolutely insane dance moves. To this day, despite my admiration for Fred Astaire, Michael Jackson and Gene Kelly, my secret ambition has always been to see if I could even come close to Prince in dance moves.

I never have.

Just yesterday, listening to the radio in the car, "When Doves Cry" comes on the air. It's not surprising. It seems to be the done thing now, when an artist passes away, a station will devote significant air play in tribute. I expect we'll hear a lot of Prince over the next few days, But what surprises me, is that all of the sudden, I feel a tear streak down the left side of my face. It's not usual for me...I respected Bowie, but I didn't shed a tear for him. Ditto for Michael, Whitney, all of these grand artistes. And yet, one song by Prince, and there I am, mourning for a man I certainly never knew or even met.

I analyze it. And then, a moment, streaks through my mind as if I were looking at a VHS tape of a summer day in 1985. It's my living room and the four of us, me, my sister Erin, my friend and her brother are all mesmerized by "Raspberry Beret". My sister and my friends' brother create a 'dance' for "Raspberry Beret" and they spend a great deal of that afternoon trying to perfect it and to 'teach' us the moves.

 I think about it now...4 white kids trying to get funky with Prince. Something that would have been almost unheard of only two decades earlier in my parents' generation. My older self now understands the gulf we were trying to span. I have clear memories of being asked why I liked all that "black music" (Motown), Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, etc. I guess to my parents and their generation, it was 'black music', to us though, it was just good music. Just music to 'get down' to.
Just three years later, my sister and I are called upon to 'rap' Will Smith's "Parents Just Don't Understand"(we'd memorized all the words) to our indulgent grandparents who thought it 'cute'. Amusingly my Dad likes to listen to an MC Hammer cassette in his mini-van on the way to church in the early 90's.  As I get older, in my twenties I discover, George Clinton, Bootsy Collins and P-Funk. It's a revelation.

But it all started with Prince. Only an artist of his caliber and mesmeric performances could ever have induced my parents to a movie theatre in 1984 populated mostly by African-Americans. In fact, I am not even allowed to see it in 1984, my sister and I beg a cousin who abides by our aunt's decision and takes us to see "The Muppets Take Manhattan" instead.  I finally see a sanitized TV version sometime in the mid-90's. Knowing as I do now the names and lyrics of some of Prince's tracks, I'm certain my parents were somewhat alarmed.

Fast forward to 2007, and it's Super Bowl XLI and like most of America, my Dad and I are dutifully watching. It's raining in Miami, I'll never forget that...and then Prince takes the stage and with his guitar and dance moves, he mesmerizes us. I remember my Dad and I just looking at each other and saying one word, "Wow!".

Then my Dad says to me, "You know, I took your Mom to see Purple Rain, I was the only white guy in the theatre!"

And that's how I will always remember Prince. He was our generations' Elvis. A guy who could unite races, bring people together who didn't see the music in terms of black and white, electrify us with his guitar, paint the world in purple sequins and make us all dance.

I never knew you Prince Rogers Nelson....but I will certainly never forget you.