Prince -- the musical phenomenon whose April 21 passing was the toughest of many big-name artist losses as of late -- was many things to many people.
For me, well, the Purple One represented an early-adulthood declaration of independence.
Let me back up a bit. I've mentioned several times before that all my siblings were seven or more years older. Being the last child at home, I led a somewhat cloistered existence with my mother and stepfather ... with whom I continued to live six years after reaching adulthood and who continued to be, well, sheltering even during those years.
It was Dec. 17, 1982, when Prince brought his 1999 tour to the Pine Bluff Convention Center. At the time, his album-title hit "1999" was my favorite jam. I'd turned 20 that year and was looking forward to that concert. My ticket, whose price pales in comparison to concert ticket prices today, was in hand.
As the concert date approached, however, I found myself with a problem. I can't remember whether an intended concert companion backed out on me, or whether I simply had nobody to go with in the first place. What I do remember was that Pine Bluff was a ways off, and Mom didn't want me to drive there alone. The implication: If I couldn't find a companion, the concert was off. My car also wasn't running well, and that may have figured in the equation.
I can at least credit my folks with not discouraging me from going to see the concert at all. As we all know, much of Prince's early work was quite risque, drawing disapproval from many parents and being the impetus for those Tipper Gore-led "parental advisory" album stickers. At the time, I too gave the side-eye to some of Prince's lyrics and video images, but also recognized and appreciated his talent. And I loved the song "1999."
So I looked high and low for somebody to go with me to that concert. And it just wasn't happening. I became increasingly frustrated. Why, oh why, I couldn't be one of those popular people who never seems to lack for ready running buddies?
To make a short story shorter, that 11th hour came and went. As the "1999" lyrics went, "Party over, oops, out of time." Concert day was upon me.
That's when resolve set in.
"There comes a time ..." I said to myself.
Never finished the sentence, but I'll do so now. There comes a time when the desire for something is so great it supersedes the consequences one might have to suffer going after it. And there comes a time that even a member of the "failure to launch" adult-child crowd had to cut the apron strings and declare herself a grown-up.
I wouldn't tell my folks that I couldn't find anybody to go with me to the concert. I would just go. Leave the job, hightail it to Pine Bluff and get my purple party on.
I did it. Drove like the wind to the Pine Bluff Convention Center. Saw the concert. Partied, indeed, like it was 1999. I even remember finding a fellow concertgoer to pal around with at the show.
The car wheezed all the way to the concert on its bald tires and all the way back ... and did need some medical attention afterward. God protects babies, fools and, in my case, Prince fans.
Like many, I mourn the loss of Prince's talent. On a larger scale, I mourn the fact that we've been losing our best singers in recent years at what seems to be increasing speed.
As we continue to try to cope with the loss of the Princes, the Maurice Whites, the David Bowies, the Whitney Houstons, the Glenn Freys, the George Dukes and the B.B. Kings, we can only hope that there are some youngsters who are given positive avenues to rise up to take their places. It'd be nice to know there's another Prince in the works, whatever his (or her) preferred genre -- R&B, country, rock, classical or, yes, gospel. (It would also be nice if young talent was not only cultivated, but given fair warning and even coached on the pitfalls of fame and how to avoid them.)
After all, those who come behind us await the soundtracks to be put to their lives. And somebody needs just that push to declare his own independence on some scale or another.
Email like it's 2016:
hwilliams@arkansasonline.com
Style on 05/01/2016