A Queen is born...a Prince dies. Legendary musician, Prince Rogers Nelson, was found dead today in his Minnesota home. He was only 57 years old.
The soundtrack of my teenage life was made up of Prince. Cyndi Lauper. Eurythmics. The Thompson Twins. I remember laying in the yard with my best friend, listening to "When Doves Cry", the perfect fuel for our teenage angst. Kids our age were sneaking out, wearing their parent's clothes, trying to get in to see his R-rated movie, "Purple Rain". There was just something ethereal about him. Something other-worldly. He could not be contained within a gender or race.
I remember exactly where I was at the stroke of midnight as 1999 rolled into a new era. And, of course, Prince's '1999' was being played on a loop. His lyrics, "two thousand zero zero party over, oops out of time", seemed to have a prophetic aura about them. Almost as if he knew there was an evolutionary musical shift coming. One that lacked his authenticity.
In 2004, the Rock and Rock Hall of Fame recognized him as an artist who "rewrote the rulebook". After his induction, he shared, " I embarked on a journey more fascinating than I could ever imagine."
We're just now learning that Prince was found unresponsive in an elevator inside of his music studio. Making his lyrics even more profound:
"And if the elevator tries to bring you down
Go crazy, punch a higher floor."
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I love the Queen. I really do. And not for her pomp and circumstance. No. I love her because she's ornery. Like that time when she jumped out of a helicopter with James Bond. Well, she didn't REALLY jump. A stunt person did. But she WAS in the helicopter and made one helluva entrance to the 2012 London Olympics. You just know she has a wicked sense of humor made even funnier with the whole crown and robe thing.
