The night after Prince died, the DJ upstairs cranked Raspberry Beret on repeat while he and his friends sand along with it, and kept up the music all night. I had a job interview in the morning but I did not have the heart to ask him to turn it down.
On my way to Seder yesterday, The Current started playing When Doves Cry. I cranked it and started rocking out and singing along.
The woman in the car next to me waved and we sang along together — she had it cranked in her car, too.
On the way home, I saw every building lit up purple in the Minneapolis skyline.
I shocked myself by crying at work when I heard. He was so fundamentally weird and fundamentally brilliant and fundamentally OURS.