Soul Cry: Prince

In 2009, I lost a friend I grew up with. I was so devastated, it took one year, 18 days, 3 hours and 12 minutes before I cried for her. I know because I counted every second, every day, every week. When I finally did break down, it was a gut-wrenching cry from somewhere deep in my soul; a place I hoped would never reveal itself again. I don’t remember sleeping, eating or anything else, really, but for four days I cried non-stop.

I have this amazingly innate ability to compartmentalize my feelings; a coping mechanism I am sure was developed as a child, but that September day in 2010 when I finally cried, I knew a pain for which I was unprepared.  I struggled through it and in 2012, I put it away in its own neat little compartment in my heart and in the recesses of my mind. And that was that.

Or so I thought.

I woke up a year ago today and that pain I packed away four years prior was the first thing I saw staring at me from across the room. It said, “Pop Icon Prince Dead At Age 57.” I stared back in utter confusion and disbelief, my head swimming as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.  The man, whom I never met, but through his gift, his tenacity, and his drive shaped who I was.  I learned about life from him; he helped me to embrace all of who I am, to love every part and to never apologize for being authentically myself.  For that I will always be grateful.

Today, my soul cries. One year and my soul still cries for him. It feels like that September day in 2010 all over again. I don’t like this new reality at all, but this time, I won’t be putting my feelings away in some compartment, I will just deal.

We will all just have to deal.

And the world will understand because Prince didn’t belong to just one of us, he belonged to all of us, he was our gift from God sent here to remind us that there’s no shame or sin in being ourselves. And to love who we are, unconditionally, just as we loved and still love him.

My post, “I Wish U [Soul] Heaven” from April 21, 2016:

I woke up this morning and my heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces, and my tears fell to the ground like (purple) rain. It hurts, it burns and it has left me truly overwhelmed with emotions I cannot clearly define. To me, artists like him, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye and Teena Marie were immortal. They each occupy a special place in my heart, in my very soul. They were my favorites. They could do no wrong and could never die.  They were here, they gave us all they could possibly give and then one day, without notice, they were gone. He was the last and now, like Michael, Marvin and Teena, he is gone.

Gone. My Prince is gone and I am devastated.

I believe there is a soul heaven, a “place where all the good [soul] children go.” Today, it’s gates opened and welcomed him. The last of my musical idols who transcended the boundaries of musical artistry has now transitioned. My final inspiration is gone and I feel it in every possible way.

Rest eternally in New Power Soul, my sweet Prince. Take your seat beside the King of Pop, the Prince of Motown and the Ivory Queen of Soul. You’ve more than earned it.

https://www.google.com/amp/s/akstaggers.wordpress.com/2016/04/22/i-wish-u-soul-heaven/amp/

 

Why 2016 Is The Year I Don’t Want To Remember, But Will Never Forget

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In less than three hours, 2016 will be but a harsh memory and 2017 will begin.  What can I say about the year I don’t care to remember but will never forget?  In a nutshell, 2016 has been the year nothing made sense.  Prince is dead and Donald Trump, imp that he is, was elected to serve as the 45th President of the United States. And I don’t understand any of it. Not at all.

It is like I entered into some unparalleled universe on April 21 where the lines of reality, fantasy, and horror were corroded and much of my time since has been spent trying to find my way out of it; or last least find peace and some semblance of sensibility where there appears to be none.  And common sense, such that it is, seems to be on a permanent vacation.

It has left my heart not wanting to leave this year behind even though my head knows better. It was a terrible year, one I wish I could forget. But because of these nonsensical circumstances, I doubt I ever will be able to erase it from my mind.

Everything that happened this year was colored by the loss of my idol, my most favorite musical talent of all time, and a teacher of sorts.  If I had to say one person who taught me as much, if not more than my parents, one person I could look to and say, “he helped raise me,” that person would be Prince.  And he never knew it.  Through his music I learned things about love, sex and that being different isn’t so much the detriment we tend to believe, but a unique gift bestowed on only a select few.  Being different, quirky, is something to be celebrated, out in the open with no regrets.  I also learned from him that it can, at times, be a lonely existence when you are different by societal standards.  He gave us his music and that was often, for me, the gift I needed to make it through many lonely days as a child and teenager.

His influence on my life, through his music, has had a greater impact than can ever be expressed in words and I am hurt beyond belief that he no longer walks this earth and by how he left it behind.  There is a hole here that no other artist or person can fill. I am 42, and I will live the rest of my life in a world he is not a part of.  At midnight, we will enter into the first year of my lifetime where he does not exist, but as a memory, and I am devastated.  The election in November was just insult to injury and solidified my stance that 2016 was the worst year ever.  On some level I am glad it is almost gone. On another, I wish I could go back to March, equipped with all the knowledge April 21st on has provided.

I hope that 2017 will prove to be a lot kinder, more loving and spare us our legends. I hope… but if I learned anything from 2016, there are no promises, no guarantees. And life, as we have learned all too painfully, can be fleeting.

Prince, you were greatly loved and are greatly missed.

***Upon finishing this article, I learned 1977 was a more deadly year for celebrities. I don’t know why The Telegraph, CNN, and others thought this would be some sort of consolation, especially for those of us who can’t remember 1977, but they did. And it was insensitive, to say the least.

Wherever You Are (For Prince)

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Six months….half a year….
When I lost a friend some years ago, my sister told me that time passes, seasons change and the only thing that remains the same is the pain that someone who once was is no longer here. So I have come to not only view death as the passage of time, but as days turn into months, I view it as the passage of seasons and eventually, like all things, seasons return.
Wherever You Are (For Prince)
 
Spring has passed, taking you with her.
 
And I am jealous that she can now be wherever you are for eternity.
 
Summer came and away she went, too…to that place you now call home.
 
That place…
 
The one that is so very far from me.
 
With fall comes memories of you I have always held dear.
 
But soon she, too, will go away to be yours and bask with you in that heavenly place.
 
Then winter will hit me with her coldness before she goes to find you as well.
 
I know Spring will return, not the one I wish I could have again, but one who knows you,
 
And where you are.
 
And when she does,
 
In April, I will ask her to tell me the good word.
 
“How has he been?
 
What new sounds have you heard?”

“Even Doves Have Pride”: Why The Conspiracy Theories About Prince’s Death Hurt Him and His Legacy

13962829_170471133362657_1149765282014125536_oPhoto by Randee St. Nicholas

 

When Prince died, I was devastated. It was like losing my best friend. It still hurts and knowing what he struggled with so privately magnifies that hurt tenfold. But my pain has had to take a back seat as frustration and, quite honestly, anger have taken hold of my emotions and my focus. Social media can be as harmful as it is helpful and informative and I have seen on that medium several fan groups and individuals who have circulated unnecessary petitions as of late to uncover “the truth” about Prince’s death and claims of murder under the auspices of conspiracy to steal his master recordings. In particular, they have accused Prince’s former label WB with whom he entered into a mutually beneficial agreement in 2014.

These “advocates” and seekers of “justice” launched their campaigns as early as April 22, 2016, the day after Prince passed away. Some didn’t even wait that long. Many began by by reading more into his last Tweet than he probably meant. Prince could be cryptic at times on purpose and in jest, but most times he actually said what he meant and meant what he said. He advertised most of his Hit N Run (HNR) shows these days via Twitter and they always said the same thing, “just when u thought u were safe”. I followed Prince from the time he opened a Twitter account and I have seen these hints about the HNR shows. His final show in Atlanta was advertised that way. So, then, why was the final Tweet taken down? He likely did it himself before he died. Prince used independent promoter, Lucy Lawler-Freas, to book dates. She has attested to this in interviews and it is on her LinkedIn profile. She’s said she was still trying to secure other venues for the “Piano and a Microphone” tour at the time of his passing. Perhaps he knew he wasn’t well enough to do the next date and needed time for recovery, to include detox and treatment for opiate dependency, and removed the Tweet as opposed to misleading his fan base. Maybe there wasn’t a location booked beyond Atlanta and rather than teasing fans with the promise of a show that fell through, removed the Tweet. As private as Prince was it is highly unlikely anyone else was able to access his Twitter account as I suspect he changed the passwords, daily.

These conspiracy theories and petitions do, however, point to a reality the creators of such fail to acknowledge: they are struggling to accept his death as a horrible accident that resulted in the death of one of the most beloved and most brilliant artists of a generation who, like many, hid a very real problem from the public and from friends. That has me coming to the resolve that many of these “advocates” retreated from Prince in the 1990s and feel guilty for doing so because now he is dead. No petition or Facebook fan group is going to change any of this; and no petition will bring him back.

We have to accept what director/producer Charles Ferguson has observed, “Prince was…human. He was ultimately killed by the collision between his perfectionism and by his shame about having flaws, and by society’s hypocrisies: the pressure to appear effortlessly spectacular in performance (which destroyed his body); to use dangerously powerful drugs to manage his pain…and to never, ever show weakness.” People have endlessly and impetuously quoted one of his signature songs to say that this, his death, “is what it sounds like when doves cry,” but I think people have only listened to that song in part; the part that only concerns them and their emotions about his life and his death.

Prince was a private man because he was a proud man. Even the most insecure among us have pride and pride is a very fragile thing. When I was a kid, people teased me for being a Prince fan, friends, family, everyone. They thought he was weird and by association, so was I. But I have never wavered in my fandom and appreciation of him and his art. Not ever and I am proud of that; it is why I can look at his life and see a man who was imperfectly perfect and perfectly imperfect. I can be proud of that and I can live with it. However, those raising the speculation that his death was part of a conspiracy strip away the very thing that keeps his legacy alive: his pride. It was his pride that made him fight the industry for control of his art. It was pride that kept him going through with the release of Emancipation and subsequent tour even though he just suffered the most immense pain one could imagine. It was his pride that let him perform through agonizing hip pain for years. And it was pride that prevented him from seeking help until the very the end and concealing his inner turmoil from those closest to him.

I can see why he hid things, no matter how detrimental to his well-being, and respect him for it because we all hide things. This is a very human thing to do and Prince was, if nothing else, human. He was just like us and said so in a 1985 MTV interview. I don’t care how he died. We all die, eventually, and the circumstances are all different. What I care about most is how he lived. Did he smile when butterflies touched his skin? The song “Glam Slam” tells me he did. Did he cry on days when he missed his son? “Comeback” tells me he did. Did he randomly quote James Brown lyrics in casual conversation like I randomly quote his lyrics in casual conversation? “Gett Off” affirms this for me. When he was younger, did he “sit out on the stoop” to “just watch all the cars go by” like so many of us do as children and teens, especially in the African-American community? According to “Reflection,” yes, he did. He was just like us. He did all the things we so-called normal people do and that includes hurting, physically and emotionally. For whatever reasons he had, Prince was hurting and it was his pride that prevented him from seeking the help he needed. This is the case with most people. He wasn’t alone. He was human.

So many people who knew him over the years talk about him being “moody,” up some days and then way down on others, genius often works that way. But do we know that when he was alone in a room by himself, that he was okay? Was he lonely? Maybe. It is possible to have friends, close friends, and parties, etc. and still feel incredibly lonely. I know that feeling. I have had it more than I care to admit, but sometimes I revel in it because it stirs creativity. I wonder if he was the same. Basically, Prince, “I wonder u”…I always have, I always will and I will always wonder why you left us so soon, not the how, but the why because I was not prepared for it.

But that is MY issue to resolve and it is not the duty of the State of Minnesota.

No matter how many petitions or letters to governors or historic landmark committees, there will never be an answer about the circumstances of his death that makes sense, it hasn’t been true for Michael Jackson or Whitney Houston. All the more reason the legacy and the art Prince left behind should be respected and not defamed by conspiracy theories that have little to no merit. People who claim to advocate for Prince feel they are doing the right thing and may have good intentions, I get that, but they are unwittingly chipping away at his dignity. And he doesn’t deserve that. The more we learn about his private use of painkillers, the more we engage in the act of usurping his pride, and that is no one’s place. We have to remember the desperation with which he sang that line in “When Doves Cry” and just let our dove have his pride and his wings…even if it hurts us to do so.

‘I Wish U [Soul] Heaven’: Saying Goodbye To My Prince

Prince Rogers Nelson

1958-2016

“We had fun, didn’t we?”

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I woke up this morning and my heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces, and my tears fell to the ground like (purple) rain. It hurts, it burns and it has left me truly overwhelmed with emotions I cannot clearly define. To me, artists like him, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye and Teena Marie were immortal. They each occupy a special place in my heart, in my very soul. They were my favorites. They could do no wrong and could never die.  They were here, they gave us all they could possibly give and then one day, without notice, they were gone. He was the last and now, like Michael, Marvin and Teena, he is gone.

Gone. My Prince is gone and I am devastated.

I believe there is a soul heaven, a “place where all the good [soul] children go.” Today, it’s gates opened and welcomed him. The last of my musical idols who transcended the boundaries of musical artistry has now transitioned. My final inspiration is gone and I feel it in every possible way.

Rest eternally in New Power Soul, my sweet Prince. Take your seat beside the King of Pop, the Prince of Motown and the Ivory Queen of Soul. You’ve more than earned it.