Happy Earth Day! Today I totally fell into deep mourning for Prince, the artist/singer/musician. I'm an old time Fiddle Filly, one of those newbies in love with old time music, so it makes no sense for me to be devastated by the death of a pop star -- except that Prince's music had a profound effect on a couple of the stages of my life. I discovered my own sensuality at about the same time that I discovered "Little Red Corvette," and then came "Purple Rain." Life happened, as it so often does, and soon I was a single mother, struggling and barely able to take a deep breath. The toddler in my house loved Prince's music. To soothe him, all I had to do was turn on "Let's Go Crazy" or "I Would Die 4 U." My son would bop around the house, exhaust himself dancing, and flop into a happy heap, ready to listen to bedtime stories. How could I not love Prince? He exhausted my hyper happy son, and gave me a good night's sleep.
ABBLE DABBLE YOU! my son hollered. He had to get tubes in his ears, and he thought "I Would Die 4 U" was "Abble Dabble You," but he understood the feelings. Every night, he'd say, "Abble Dabble you, Momma," and I'd say, "Abble Dabble you, Honey."
So Prince means more to me than I can say. His music framed a time in my life that was fraught with difficulty. In this stage of life, many years later, I'm a total Bruce Greene fiddle fan, but changes happen.
So I refuse to believe that Prince has passed away. I know he had mega-money, so I've decided that he faked his own death and went into a kind of celebrity witness protection program. I want him to be alive. I want him to keep making music. In my imagination station, he has decided to disappear, to evaporate, as a known entity in the public world, but he will keep creating music. It isn't completely beyond the realm of possibility. Didn't he pretend to be a studio musician with some name like Jamie Sparks for a while, to protect his anonymity and back up his friends? He has no wife, no kids. I wanted to believe that Patrick Swayze had gone into celebrity witness protection, but that man would not have left his wife for anything. Prince, though, he could go. His last party was a huge success, and he sold tickets for $10 apiece. Prince was ready to be a hidden genius, instead of a man owned by his own publicity. He's free, you see? He's taken another identity and flown free.
I know a lot of Elvis fans felt the same way. Anyway, the past months have taken a rough toll on me. Deaths keep happening -- my stepdad, who was like a dad to me; my cousin Larry Dean; a nephew; many musicians whose music mattered a lot. So I am going to choose denial on this one. Prince might not be doing any more movies or Super Bowl half-time shows, but by gosh and by golly, he's going to stay alive in a new identity. When his plane touched down at the Quad Cities International Airport in Moline, Illinois -- an airport I actually know very well -- he walked out of this world and switched identities with someone else, someone who looked like him and traded places with him. He sat for a few minutes in those big, cozy chairs that the airport features, and then he flew far, far away from here, maybe to Belize or the Congo or Paris. Some day soon, a new talent will emerge, because he won't be able to stand anonymity for long.
Then again, maybe Prince flew to heaven. Wherever he is, a part of my history goes with him. When my son was little, I called him my little prince, and read the Antoine de Saint-Exupery book to him. He danced and sang, and his blonde hair shone like a wheat field. He grew up fast. Soon I had another husband, a daughter, houses........then no husband, and grown-up children...........My life disappeared, and each change has led to new changes. Sometimes I really want to do it all over again, especially the dancing.
Abble Dabble you, Prince. Abble Dabble you, my little prince, my princess.
And to you, whoever you are, wherever you are, reading this small note between the changes that will befall you -- sleep well. Be peaceful. Believe. Someday, someone will Abble Dabble you.
