I first time that I saw Prince he was on my best friend’s wall. It was the afro. And those eyes. I was young, but I knew enough to know he was fine.
I guessed correctly and the girl from Ohio, Halle Berry, was crowned the winner. She was the reigning teen beauty queen.
Sharks! I didn’t actually see them, but I knew they were there. I tucked my feet up under me and made sure the rest of my body was out the water.
Hanging out at First Avenue was always a blast; on any given night Prince, Alexander O’Neal, The Time or Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis could show up.
But we always had that bond, you know the one that was formed with a flashlight under the covers when we should have been sleeping, but instead reading the liner notes on the latest Prince album.
Unwanted petting of my hair, trying to put stuff in it, presumptuous questions, all were seemingly friendly and joking acts, but I could tell they were a subtle form of ridicule.
