So this will be a quick entry about my recent tryst with the little man who sits alone in a paisley park, under the cherry moon while it rains purple… it’s the sign o’ times, it’s the sign o’ the times, it’s the sign o’ the times.
It should be noted that as of date I have been working my ass off at my daytime gig. That and on top of my favorite (bear) bar being closed for a month has equated to me neglecting all of the usual creature comforts that befit my blissfully degenerate lifestyle. You would think I would have somehow accumulated this wealth of self-knowledge, self-understanding and spirituality during this “Lent-like” period of my life but alas, I can’t remember being this confused, pissed-off, uninspired and flat out horny since my teenage years.
All that to say that… seeing Prince live at the Forum last Saturday was both a release and cause of tension for me. It was extremely inspirational. It was extremely existential. It was extremely sexual. To say that it was simply “good” would be an insult the words phenomenal or astonishing or life-changing. It was… supercalifunkilisticsexyalidocious. One of the main things it brought to mind was the fact that so much time elapses between my periods of getting funky. I haven’t partied like that in a bit of time. We’re not talking about getting liquored up, making out with some strange dude(s), sending weepy love texts to your ex’s, having heated arguments with your friends over which was better “Velvet Rope” or “Rhythm Nation”, tipping strippers to sit on your lap while you put in five dollar’s worth of Fifty Cent songs on the jukebox type of party. This was a sober, sweaty, vertical, physical, nostalgic, innocent, erection, screaming, crying, singing, praying, fucking, Shelia E drumming, Halle Berry dancing, Amel Larriuex singing, black, white, straight, gay, Controversy, 1999, Around the World in a Day, Diamonds, Pearls, Starfish, Coffee, Maple Syrup, Jam, Jam, Jam type of par-tay. And I enjoyed every single solitary bit of it!
To be continued…