Still in Rotation: Purple Rain (Prince)

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Still in Rotation: Purple Rain (Prince)

Still in Rotation is a feature that lets talented writers tell Midlife Mixtape readers about an album they discovered years ago that’s still in heavy rotation, and why it has such staying power.

Thank you, Internets, because were it not for the weird way you connect strangers in far flung locations, I would not know Ann Imig of Ann’s Rants, whose writing, wit, and huge heart make an impression on everyone she meets. The Founding Mother of the Listen To Your Mother Show national reading series, Ann graces us today with her thoughts on a fellow dark haired diminutive Midwesterner: Prince.

Bathing in the Purple Rain

For my youth, my friends, and especially on the occasion of dancing—nobody provided a better soundtrack than Prince. Even the wallflowers jumped up and down to Let’s Go Crazy at the Van Hise Middle School dance, and everyone–everyone– implicitly understood that partying like it’s 1999 set the fiesta epic-ness barometer.

In high school, my friend Megan sent us into fits of choking-on-your-own-spit laughter with her combination riding a pony/Pee Wee Herman’s “Tequila” dance to Kiss. Starfish and coffee maple syrup and jam greeted Erin, Maria, and I weekend mornings in our college apartment, as rays of sunshine illuminated our dirty ashtrays and dappled our raspberry berets (even if they were tweed newsboy caps worn backwards). The Sign of the Times messed with our minds, and we loved it.

Even though we had some notion of Prince’s Little Red Corvette, my generation’s liner notes lead back to one place…Purple Rain (1984.) No two words evoke such a combustion of pre-teen angst, hormones, and nostalgia in me as those. After all, who among us doesn’t know the answer to the primal call and response:

“Wendi?… Is the water warm enough?… Shall we begin?”

Yes, Lisa, we knew that something untoward was going on: Two ladies! Bathing together! Just like we knew that Darling Nikki was a sex fiend. These exciting/confusing sentiments were heightened even further by the fact that my mom accompanied my siblings and I to Purple Rain: The Movie, launching the movie-musical sexuality discomfort level to code ITCHY PANTS MAKE IT STOP BECAUSE MOM BUT ALSO WAIT DON’T. Whatever she thought the movie was about, it wasn’t Prince fondling/writhing with Apollonia. That’s about the only scene I remember, thanks to the brain-branding that mortification provides. Regardless, whatever this “grind” move Prince saw little Nikki perform in a hotel lobby with a magazine? Well, we wanted to know about it, because evidently Prince liked his ladies both pretty and talented, and we liked Prince. As more than a friend.

See, Prince was hot. Prince was a total babe. And not just because he could shop for Esprit splatter-paint overalls with us in the Juniors department if he so desired. Looking back, he probably shared a stylist with Designing Women, but everything went all gender-bendy in the early 80s, and our hormones fell right in line. A super wavy—we’ll call it a body wave—of a line. Have you looked at the boys of Duran Duran lately? Remember the Newsweek cover featuring Boy George and Annie Lennox? Boy George set my heart a-flutter and Annie Lennox looked as feminine to me as The Disney Princesses not-yet-invented. Incidentally, put a pencil-wisp of a mustache on Jasmine from Aladdin, add a ruffle-throat tunic and VOILA, Prince!

Purple Rain was my first 33 rpm record purchase, at West Towne Mall, with my own allowance. I did not get one of the coveted purple vinyl limited-editions, so I drowned my sorrows with TartNTinys and the purchase of a Purple Rain T-shirt from Spencer Gifts. I wore said shirt to Mrs. Selvaag’s fifth grade class to claim my fandom, along with my homemade “I heart Billy Idol” button. Written in crayon. I even choreographed and performed my own version of The Bird routine in music class; I Pledge Allegiance To The Time! (Hand on heart! Other hand starts at 6 and flares right on up to midnight!)

I spent after school hours with that record jacket in my room, singing along and wishing I could comfort just one poet blouse sleeve’s worth of Prince’s angst. HE ONLY WANTED TO SEE HER BATHING/LAUGHING IN THE PURPLE RAIN. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? BUT HE NEVER CAN BECAUSE RAIN NEVER EQUALS PURPLE. I WOULD DIE 4 U, PRINCE! ME. BECAUSE I

1999 came and went along with Y2K. Prince became The Insignia formerly known. Instead of dancing in middle school gyms, you’ll see my friends and I going crazy from the driver’s seat of our Little Chrome Station Wagons. We know what it sounds like. When children cry.

That’s when we turn up the doves.

♪♪♪A Stay-At-Home-Humorist, Ann Imig has been inflicting herself upon your internet since 2008. Her writing has been featured on McSweeney’s, College Humor, and as a Top 100 Babble blogger and a BlogHer Voice of the Year. Ann is Founder and National Director of Listen To Your Mother, the live-reading series/social media phenom Giving Mother’s Day A Microphone in 24 cities (and growing), as featured on NBC Nightly News, and The New York Times. Every morning she greets the screen before her family, editing LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER: THE BOOK coming in 2015 from Amy Einhorn Books.Ann’s also offering a free copy of my new eBook, The Family Mix, to one of her readers, so if you’re interested in a chance to win click through here and leave a comment on her blog (bookmark her site for future reference too, you won’t regret it…)