Contrary to rumor, beautiful men get lonely, too.

Who am I to assume Prince Rogers Nelson was lonely. After having lost his babyboy soon after his birth, I can only imagine the devastation; an heir gone much too soon.

Remember when his father, John L. Nelson, forewarned him, “You plan to marry? . . . don’t ever get married.” I don’t think Prince ever forgot that haunting advice. Who could?

As much as he may have internalized it, though, he didn’t allow it to deter his free will. A young man becomes a man when he makes his own decisions and faces the results. Prince was his own man.

I wonder if he ever found peace. Inner peace. Sure, being a genius in one’s artistry, which he was in every sense of the word, is the easy part. I mean, ask Michael, ask Steve Jobs, ask Kobe and Tiger.

It’s the “life” part that, where, the devil is in the details.

I mean, when one has attained a bounty of fame and fortune, how do you truly measure the sincerity, the integrity, the genuineness of another’s heart, their intent?

Celebrity can’t help but breed suspicion—I imagine. I mean, a man of assets, a woman of affluence, can ill afford to be naive in the affairs of the heart, no? Hence, the loneliness. Lurking there, somewhere, in the sanctum. Does it ever truly go away?

Man, I hope Prince didn’t pass away with loneliness in his heart. For he gave legions of music lovers around the globe every ounce of what his Maker had bestowed to him: Love.

I’m sad. Not so much that Prince is gone; his body, mind and soul are now at holistic peace. He’s up there now getting ready to put on a show with his idol Jimi Hendrix. Imagine trying to get tickets to that performance!

I’m sad because, as much as a genius is said to be born somewhere on Earth each day, who’s gonna measure up to Prince and Michael, in whom love and humanity were the very essence of their creativity?

Gosh, we’ve lost another of our giants, love. Prince Rogers Nelson may well be the last of that very rare breed of life enhancer unparalleled.

I want you to come over this evening. We’re going nostalgic. I’m pulling out the VCR from the closet and the “Purple Rain” VHS tape.

I’m hand-tossing a homemade brick-oven pizza and chilling a couple bottles of Cabernet Franc, vintage 1999.

I’m pampering you tonight, woman.

God, pamper Prince Rogers Nelson.

Tender are my thoughts,
Rg2

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Heaven hues purple with a paisley-covered gate . . . a Prince is called home, the doves cry, I relate. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®