Let's not go crazy, Prince: You're 53 years old now (aka 'Steve gets a weekend lover')
How exactly do you imagine that Prince Rogers Nelson spends his birthdays? Wearing a raspberry beret (the kind you buy in a second-hand store) and watching Purple Rain on DVD all day? Hopping into a little red Corvette and driving off to sanctify himself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka? Crank-calling Wendy and Lisa and singing Batdance into the phone before hanging up?
Prince turns 53 years old today, not exactly a monumental milestone in age, but still enough to make you want to call up that shrink in Beverly Hills -- you know the one ... Dr Everything'll Be Alright -- and ask him how much of your time is left.
I'm running out of song titles to use -- and there's no way I'm providing a link to our truly unlistenable audio commentary for Purple Rain -- so how about another sad story instead?
The year was 1984 (zzzz, zzzz, yes I know all my good stories happened that year. I'm an even-yeared kind of guy.) It was the summer of Prince. He had the No. 1 album and No. 1 movie. And yet, none of my friends could be bribed into seeing Purple Rain with me. And so it was me and two pals were spending another pointless Saturday afternoon at the mall when we bumped into an amazing girl that I knew from a youth bowling league. (Okay, I realize I lost half my audience right there. I march on.)
Turns out "The Girl" (we'll use pronouns like Purple Rain did) wanted to see the movie too. And she had two friends who she insisted would love to see it as well. Suddenly my male comrades were buying into this idea. So off to the cineplex we head. We buy tickets to a matinee and we wait for her friends. And wait. And wait. They never showed. So it was with the greatest pain imaginable that my two friends were forced to sit behind me and The Girl and watch us make out for 111 straight minutes.
Seriously. What kind of couple makes out during the scene where Prince's dad tries to commit suicide? Answer: Us. And I don't feel a bit bad about it now or then.
The movie ends, and from what I remember, I adored it. And from what I remember, my friends promised to beat me into a bloody pulp as soon as The Girl turned the corner. I didn't care. It was true love. For "The Girl" and for Purple Rain. They took mercy on me and merely let me find my own ride home.
My love for Purple Rain has never diminished in the following years. I can still quote the "Say the password, Onion Head" scene line for line. But me and The Girl were meant to only be weekend lovers. It's such a shame our friendship had to end.
If you know what I'm writin' about up here, come on raise your hand.
And if not, well, could you at least give me a ride home?