SUMMER IN NYC!

Cotdamn, I love this city! Okay, to be honest, my passion has waned a bit since I moved to NY almost a decade ago, especially with all the mall-ification in recent years. Brooklyn, in particular, is a different world than when I landed here in '96. Still, I gotta admit nothing compares to the feeling I get on a summer night, walking around in short sleeves with a cool urban breeze tickling my epidermis. I just got home from Prospect Park, where Maceo Parker was performing at the bandshell. Re: the music, ehhh. The JBs are gods, of course. But this isn't 1970 and while Maceo still holds up pretty damn well -- arguably better than the Godfather circa 2006 -- the vibe sometimes get a bit too sanitized for my taste.

Still, I had a good time. The scene at the bandshell is more about the lovely Brooklyn crowd anyway, the couples kissing on their blankets, sipping wine out of tupperware containers, the doobage under the trees, the angelic multicultural children frolicking to the beat. Unless you're fairly close to the stage, the music fades into the background.

At the end of the show, my friend Jose and I were about to make our way to the exit when the band returned for an encore, and I recognized -- even with my awful eyesight -- a familiar figure in a white suit approaching the mike. No, it can't be. Yes, it is. The purple one. Oh shit. We made a bee-line down the corridor of the aisle, and by the time we reached the dense crowd surrounding the stage, the masses behind us had finally caught on.

Prince performed just one song, "Get Off the Boat," the funk jam from his mostly unexceptional latest release 3121. It was fine. (This is what it looked like.) What am I saying, it was effing Prince -- it was great. But like many in the crowd, I imagine, all I could think about was, C'mon, please, don't leave after this. Give us something. Give us "Kiss." Give us "DMSR." But alas, it was not to be. It was over almost as soon as it began.

And somewhere in this fine metropolis, He is probably about to go on stage at a slamming afterparty, while I'm home writing this, thinking about how I've got to go to bed soon cause I have to get up at 7:30 for work. But I'm not disheartened. At least I'm here, in the city of infinite possibilities...