I'm not writing anything about Prince's death. It feels way too surreal and frankly, everybody on god's green Earth has written something on him--most of it was pretty bad. However there are three stellar Prince-is-dead articles that I suggest you read:
1) Alan Leeds - Prince's longtime manager
2) Questlove - A longtime Prince admirer
3) Bomani Jones - longtime Prince admirer
Also, Questlove (via Twitter) brought up a creepy point yesterday about how the words to "Let's Go Crazy" seem to serve as a bit of foreshadowing to how Prince died--especially when you factor in the alleged use of painkillers. Enough of that though.
So this past weekend my wife and some of her Morgan State buddies hung out and relived their college glory. Young Nyles and I hung out and did fun stuff like go to the movies (to see Zootopia) play baseball, a little soccer and we also watched the Smithsonian channel. Sadly, he caught a little bit of a cold, so our plans to hang out all Saturday were slightly derailed, but we had fun nonetheless.
My wife returned home with one of her friends, and this friend (who lives in NY) had a special request for my wife and me via her sister (who also lives in NY). That request was for us to buy her 3 bottles of Mad Dog 20/20 to bring back to NY. If you're unfamiliar with Mad Dog 20/20, it is a glorified wine cooler, malt-flavored beverage, that you basically have to be over 50 to drink--although my wife's friend and her sister are in their early to mid 40s. I've never touched the stuff, but I have male friends of mine who have, and I'm pretty sure they were dangerously close to becoming sterile as a result. It isn't a drink you should indulge in every day, but I suppose on special occasions you can really dig in and go crazy. I bet it goes good with a bucket of chicken too.
Anyway, I was asked to go to the liquor store and purchase this fabulous malt beverage and it gave me pause. The normal liquor stores I frequent wouldn't dare carry Mad Dog 20/20--partly because it isn't considered classy, partly because of the clientele they could attract, and mainly because the demand for it is hella low. I normally buy wine in semi to fancy stores except during football season when I may venture over to the beer section. Malt-flavored, Bartles and James type beverages aren't really in my wheelhouse, which meant I had to venture over to the "package sto'". The package sto'(as it is called in the South) is a place where you can get rudimentary groceries, play the numbers and by cheap wine, beer, liquor, cigarettes, cigars and phone cards to call overseas. I only go to that store when a) it is time to play the Lottery and b)when all the other stores are closed. They don't have good wine there, and sometimes kids (ages 10-21) tend to hang around there and clog up the store buying insane amounts of candy. I don't need that headache, I just want my f**king wine and I want to go home.
Due to my wine/liquor snobbery I was hesitant to fulfill my wife's friend's request to purchase Mad Dog at the package sto'. I was worried about the looks I'd get from folks when I plopped those bottles on the counter, but I ended up going anyway. The first trip I made to the package sto, I headed to the back of the store, procured a bottle of Mad Dog and placed on the counter. As soon as I did that, this older black man and another black woman--both of whom were playing the lottery--looked at the drinks, then looked me and gave me this look that basically said, "Word?". I looked at them and said (in my head), "Word!!". The guys behind the counter took my money, slightly smirked at me, and then I got the hell out of there.
I walked back in the house with my one bottle of cherry-flavored of Mad Dog with a tremendous sense of accomplishemt. I had stepped out of my comfort zone and brought home a drink I would never drink in a million years. Then my wife told me that I was to buy 3 bottles, not one, and I had to go back to the goddamn store. I walked back in there, got two more bottles which looked like lime Kool-Aid and placed them on the counter. This time, there were two women in line playing the numbers and one dude waiting for cigars, and they all gave me the same incredulous look. I didn't even bother trying to explain myself (via my facial expressions), I just paid, ignored the smirks from the guys behind the counter, and rolled the f**k out.
I realize I sound real bourgie right now but I don't give a damn. I suggest you go out and buy, then taste some Mad Dog and get back to me.
Prince - Breakfast Can Wait (Official Video) by Prince-Official