At the risk of creating too much overlapping content about Prince and travel, I’m highlighting a recent mug purchase. Some people1 think I “have too many” and “don’t need anymore” but those people ought to look around their garage and t-shirt drawers before weighing in. Anyway, this is about more than the mug of course. It’s about choices and priorities and memories, and maybe2 a little about obsessions.
In December, while traveling to Columbus, Ohio for work, we had a lengthy stopover in Minneapolis-St. Paul. It is a surprisingly interesting + art-filled airport that seriously rivals my home base, PDX, plus it has a Prince store. I made my way over to look around and was overjoyed at the stylish, loving way they had created a space not just for selling goods but to celebrate the artist - there are monitors along the walls (outside & within) showing clips of his performances, framed artwork & memorabilia displays, and of course his songs playing. I considered a t-shirt since I didn’t get one at the 1985 concert; as it was my first ever, I had no concept of a merch table, plus my parents were waiting in the parking lot. I spied a travel pillow, the ultra soft & delectably mushroomy plush kind, imprinted with the Purple Rain floral design. I wanted it, knew I could use it often, yet somehow talked myself out of it and bought only a sticker, some socks, and a more practical pint glass.3 As soon as we boarded and I realized my neck could use a loving Prince-sanctioned caress, I regretted leaving it behind. When we got home I relentlessly searched online for a way to get that travel pillow but there was nothing; I even emailed the MSP store, to which they sympathetically replied “So sorry.” Every trip since then I have thought of that neck pillow wistfully, hopefully, but I wasn’t routed through Minneapolis again - until last week.
When I landed - with my carry-on luggage only as I was hoping to make it through without having to check anything4 - I raced to the Prince store and there, standing in welcome at the doorway, was a stack of the legendary travel pillows. I caressed the top one then took it reverently to the counter. The clerk greeted me pleasantly while I breathlessly explained how I had chosen not to buy the pillow in December and then couldn’t find it anywhere, as if I had left behind a child and was just now able to return for it. To deflect from my awkward revelation, I casually looked over the stickers and chose a new one. HERE IS WHERE THE MUG STORY BEGINS.5 This clever young woman seized the opportunity to upsell, as I was obviously in an emotional state - if I also bought a pair of socks and a mug, they offered a special bundle price. I have no idea if it was a good deal at all but I immediately chose more socks and the mug, even though I had about 5 (noncontinuous) square inches of open space left in my personal bag.6

I have been using my new Prince/glyph mug at the hotels where I’m staying for con work and of course the tea tastes much better this way. Incidentally, the Marriott has matching purple pillows. I’m pretty sure The Artist set it up this way from his funky perch in the cosmos.
First [only, so far] husband, who has to watch me on trips buy mug after souvenir mug and not only carefully manuever it into my suitcase but also find a space in the kitchen cupboard at home. Which I always do, with only a few tears of frustration.
Definitely.
We have extra space in the glassware cupboard, and more people can also use it.
Once my luggage was delayed for most of a weekend in Tulsa so that I had to buy new underwear at Target then wear my travel outfit for two days of a convention. And on a trip to Hawaii, the airline lost my toiletries bag that also contained a favorite necklace with a Fierce Chick charm (baby chicken wearing eyeglasses) that I’ve never been able to replace. #StoryForAnotherDay
So I get nervous about what I check now.
I am, in case it hasn’t become clear, Queen of Short Story Long.
I did actually ask her if they could ship it to my home, which was met with a kind but blank stare.
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