#fox is an old name so it stays. and joy is josephine

[malkaviian]

i got in a brainstorming mood for the crimsonwood preparatory au for some reason.

[asynbackup-blog]

The Purple One

By Cyd Josephine 

“Do you love God?”

I remember jumping on top of the chair and screaming with joy the afternoon I read the announcement that he was coming to town. He would be just around the block from me at the Fox Theater. I was going to be there. Nothing stood in my way. Not even being a broke college student.

I remember rushing to the cafeteria to tell my friends the good news. Apparently the twinkle in my eyes spoke just as loudly as I did when I said his name and Atlanta in the same sentence. My heart raced at the very thought of being in the same room as him. I would finally get to see my artistic dad in the flesh. The man who helped give birth to the creative being I am today.

The Purple One.

Prince.

I don’t remember the first show, at least not in its entirety, but I do remember there was no Purple Rain. I woke up early. I skipped class.  I cried and waited for over 2 hours. I prayed. I gave everything I had in me to get this ticket. He had the flu. He postponed. He announced a new date. I was loyal. There was no Purple Rain.

I remember the set was short. He performed well, but this was very unlike him.  Switching between being concerned and deprived, I sat in utter confusion. I needed more. It didn’t sit well with me at all. My gut told me to head to the box office.

“When will we be paid for the work we've done?”

“When will we be paid for the work we've done?”

For such a small frame of a man, his voice was thunderous and captivating.I remember the purple glo-stick bracelet an older woman had given me while waiting outside. I raised my fist. He continued to belt out his political statement in the form of lyrics. My fist with the glo-stick dimly shining stayed raised until his very last lyric of When “Will We B Paid” was sung. I thought about my brothers and sisters and current times in America. The message of his song resonated in my soul. I was deeply moved.  

I remember him changing the lyrics. “He’s your Messiah, He’s the only reason why”, he sang, instead of “I’m your Messiah and you're the reason why”, making the meaning of I Would Die 4 U much more obvious. I felt his words. Tears began to well up in my eyes. Not a single one escaped. In that moment, I felt God.

I remember Linus and Lucy. He teased us with the beloved Charlie Brown classic as his fingers tickled the ivories. He grinned a mysterious grin. He chuckled softly. He played as if he were Schroeder. He chuckled again, as if he knew the kind of nostalgia that was transpiring in the room. The room was happy.

I remember thinking “Sinead O’Connor could never sound this beautiful”. Nothing could truly compare to him. He sang the lyrics so passionately. The crowd accompanied him at the chorus. A sea of melodious sounds. Nothing Compares 2 U. Nothing compares to him. Nothing will ever compare to that moment.

I remember the first time I heard Sometimes It Snows in April. I had no clue what it meant. When he sang it that night, I felt it deep in my gut. It was an unpleasant feeling. A feeling of sadness. A feeling of sadness that I didn’t understand. I was on a rollercoaster of emotions and Christopher Tracy and his purple Yamaha was the captain.

I remember the moment I was rewarded for my loyalty. I looked around at the sea of purple, Prince t-shirts, tambourines, and old school zoot suits with great satisfaction. We were the choir and he was our director. He immersed us in Purple Rain. It felt spiritual.

I remember being in a trance. I believe he transitioned into The Beautiful Ones and then Diamonds and Pearls, but I don’t quite remember being completely present. I was too busy absorbing the powerful energy in the room. His presence was strong. He played every song as if he were giving it his all.

“Do you love God?”

Those were the last words I remember him speaking with his thunderously deep voice. That, and a bouquet of “Thank you”s and “Sorry for cancelling”s wrapped in a heartwarming “Goodnight”, as he picked up his scepter and left the stage after his third and final encore. Everything was still.

The purple piano shone underneath a single spotlight. A silhouette configured out of stars of The Purple One’s majestic profile was projected onto the black backdrop. God, the instrumental, played gloomily as the theater emptied. I stood alone next to the purple Yamaha. Everything was still.

7 days later. April 21st.

He became that very constellation that I had witnessed as a mere projection onto that

giant black Fox Theater backdrop.

He was gone.

Every feeling, every emotion, every second of that sacred experience began to make sense.

Everything was still.There was Purple Rain.

Everything was still.

“I guess he's better off than he was before

A whole lot better off than the fools he left here”

I remember Sometimes It Snows in April.