I have told the story of My First Concert Which Happened To Be Prince so many times that most people I know have heard it already1 and one time I checked in with my high school bestie who came with me, to make sure I was telling it accurately. I know it actually happened because I still have my ticket stub, but the circumstances are so bizarre, even for an ‘80s teen2.
The circumstances: Thursday, February 14, 1985, I was riding the bus home alone because I still didn’t have my driver’s license and none of my friends with cars lived near me, when I heard the radio announcer say that there were still tickets for the Prince concert added the next night at the Tacoma Dome. I sat straight up in my seat. My 1999 cassette, found at a garage sale a few years before, was one of my favorites to listen to while mowing the lawn,3 and I devoured my Purple Rain album [though I had to play it quietly in my room if parents or little sister were in earshot].
As soon as I got home, I called the t-shirt shop4 that was also the source of concert ticket sales. I was ready to be laughed off the line for asking about tickets at 4pm the night before, but the radio person said they were out there and I was in an inexplicably brave state (probably because of Prince; he was pretty powerful in a lot of ways).
Magical Moment #1 - they had two tickets to resell, I would have to call back for the price but they were front row. I thought I was going to pass out at that point, but I gathered all of my Virgo wits and made a plan: Call best friend to see if she would come with me then call my mom at work to see if she would drive us; Tacoma was more than two hours away from my hometown and I knew no grownup would allow us to make the trip alone on a Friday night. Best friend was a quick yes, then Magical Moment #2 - my mom answered with sure, she & my dad would make it a date5.
I called the t-shirt shop back and (Magical Moment #3) they said $256 each, easily in my babysitting cash stash, BUT they were closing at 5:30. My mom usually got home at 5:00 and we lived 15 minutes out of town. Suddenly I was really sweating and near tears at the possibility of missing out on this deal. I believe I might be a completely different person today if I didn’t get to see Prince (and the incredible Sheila E., who opened + joined him onstage later) when I was 16; this was definitely a Sliding Doors moment for me.
So obviously we made it to the shop, to the concert7 and back, and now I still carry the vivid purple smoke-filled memory of watching his (and Sheila E.’s) bewitching, bewildering, all around extraordinary performance about 30 feet away from my face. My very sweaty,8 awed + grinning nerd girl face.
My former principal, also my friend, since 2007, has always known the seriousness of my connection to Prince - that I love his music & his person but also that seeing him up close as a teenager, especially after overcoming an improbable series of obstacles, was a highlight in my life close to marrying and giving birth. She understood when I taught in a shocked, melancholy stupor on the day Prince died, playing his songs9 in class all day while students worked independently. When I finally officially quit last June, she gave me a painting by her brother-in-law that I had admired with blatant jealousy since I first saw it hanging in her house. I don’t know how she & her husband believe I deserve it, but I’ve trusted her judgment for almost two decades, and it’s rude to refuse a gift, right?
“Time is a mind construct. It’s not real. A strong spirit transcends rules.”
…and usually smile stiffly through clenched jaws even though I SWEAR I’m not trying to brag; I totally got lucky. (But really though, come on…)
I mean, we spent half our childhoods legally riding in cars (or in truck beds) without seatbelts, breathing secondhand smoke for hours in arcades & bowling alleys, and taking our bikes (helmet-less) into the woods after school until dinnertime.
A. Yes I did mow the lawn once upon a time, when my parents required me to and I didn’t yet have a husband who would gladly do it.
B. I listened on my knockoff Walkman while mowing because it was too scandalous to play out loud in the house.
C. Other favorites, depending on mood: My dad’s American Graffiti soundtrack, The Go-Go’s Vacation, Depeche Mode Some Great Reward
For any young folk reading, it was like a brick & mortar RedBubble but much cooler because you could get your name ironed onto the back in velvety letters while inhaling the probably-toxic aroma of decals melting.
My parents never did spontaneous stuff like this without asking a hundred probing questions but I think the combination of fun opportunity for them + my best friend being the most trustworthy teen in the world + having never actually heard/seen Prince perform was just the recipe for my luck.
Ah, the olden days. I have recently paid more than $200 (each) to see Prince’s contemporaries Janet Jackson and Cyndi Lauper. And, those 1985 front row tickets were actually only $17.50 face value. *Shakes fist at inflated sky*
Best friend & I, unlike 90% of the Prince-inspired audience around us, were dressed in our cutest jeans with purple polo shirts and I wore my favorite penny loafers, one of which I almost lost when the crowd surged us forward against the stage barrier.
I also wore a purple sweatshirt, in case it was chilly.
(It was not, but I had no safe place to put it, alas.)
Though I had to dash as nonchalantly as possible across the classroom to skip a couple obviously NSFW…
$25!!! Front row!! Unspeakably amazing. My 1985 self and my current self are so impressed and envious, so keep telling this story, I don’t care who’s tired of hearing it!