Today Prince passed away. I really tried to like Prince's music, but i never really got it. I appreciate his musicianship, but his music always came across as safe and saccharine to me. I also didn't find him particularly charismatic or attractive. I only owned one album - Controversy - which i enjoyed because of the synths and production of the era, but i listened to it far less than other albums of the same era. But God was he an icon. Pretty much every woman i know either had or still has a crush on him. Women love him. Black people love him. Christians love him. Americans love him. So, basically, the half of my Facebook that isn't European, white, gay and old are having their Bowie moment. And so it matters to me by osmosis.
I am fascinated by the mythology of Prince. I could care less about the music, but losing such a bizarre and colorful diva that means so much to some of my peers is like losing a crazy uncle i never had. He summoned people. He was manically prolific. He spoke in word salad. He was a musical virtuoso who was somehow able to pull off making being a nerd cool. He was a tiny, sleazy man who moved his body in a way that inexplicably got half the population wet. Prince is perhaps the only solid evidence that natural born women have some kind of genetic je ne sais quoi that will forever elude trannies. But still, the world is much less interesting without him in it.
The other thing, is that it gives me an excuse to get very drunk tonight without having to blame it on falling off the wagon. You know. A piece of my youth died. Or something.