Lifestyle Thanks for Making Us Matter: An Open Letter to Prince from Minneapolis

Dearly beloved, When you’re trying to write about someone who was so incredibly profound, you begin to realize that they simply defy words. In the case of you, Mr. Prince Rogers Nelson, it’s been particularly difficult to shape our thoughts into actual words following your death. Honestly, are there really any "right" things to say? Well, after several late nights reliving your life through the many gifts you left us (i.e. the music), we’ve come to the conclusion that there are: thank you. You were a man who left us all too early, but the things you gave us -- specifically the Twin Cities -- are so much more valuable than just diamonds and pearls. We in the TC owe you our gratitude and our appreciation. Here, we call out your name in thanks. There are a lot of things those living out-of-state just don’t understand about the relationship between you and the Twin Cities. Sure, it wasn’t always the best of marriages, but it was one we never took for granted. If you ask people their favorite Prince story, you’re just as likely to get a turbulent thriller as you are a happy and uplifting fairy tale.

True story: I had a friend who told me about his tenure working at a local record store. On occasion, you'd drop by to make sure the store was properly stocked with your catalog. If it wasn’t, the employees got an earful -- as if there were thieves in your temple. (Classic Prince!) I also remember hearing, to much controversy, that you would keep bodyguards around while recording in Paisley Park just in case the studio musicians became overly agitated by your constant quest for perfection. (Again, classic Prince.) Others recant tales of a friend of a friend who used to play basketball with you back in the day, or about that time they saw you perform at First Avenue and swore on the cross that you were singing to them and only them -- as if they could actually, somehow, be your lover. There are stories of how you played local proms before you were famous and with local bands to unknowing audiences during the height of your career, only to have them learn about it the next day in the morning papers. (All classic Prince.) To be honest, for those of us from the Twin Cities, there’s no real way of knowing which of the many stories about you is true or not, because, frankly, there are mountains of them. Some certainly will be, but some will just live out there with no real way to officially authenticate them. But there is one thing that will always be true: if you’re from here, you’ll never have enough Prince stories, because love you or hate you, you were Prince, and Prince will always be an integral part of the Twin Cities experience.