Purple Reigned on Me

AuthorHouse

Contents

Chapter 1: In the Beginning..........................................1Chapter 2: How I Met Prince..........................................15Chapter 3: On Top of the World.......................................25Chapter 4: Making the Video..........................................47Chapter 5: Prince of Darkness?.......................................59Chapter 6: Tour Time.................................................67Chapter 7: Peering Over the Rose Colored Glasses.....................83Chapter 8: Purple Reigned on Me......................................95Chapter 9: Live, Life, Dream.........................................111Chapter 10: Dear Prince..............................................121

Chapter One

"Don't judge if you ain't lived it ..." Derek Curry II

Before I can even begin to talk about Prince and all of his greatness; I must first touch upon why I decided to write this chapter. In order to get to know a person, you must understand where they came from and how they got to the place where they are today. I stand before you in point asking for your full, undivided attention. I know you are wondering, who is Mikki really? Well, before you can read about Prince, you must first get to know me! If you know me, then you will know the most intricate details that make up who I am and why I actually wrote this book. Throughout my childhood, life was different. I came from many places, which I'll explain to you in a second. Sometimes in life we need to reevaluate where we are, where we went wrong and what we would change if we could turn back the hands of time. For me, this is all about accepting my past and making room for my future. My prayer is that you will be inspired by this book to do the same. Sometimes I laugh at the thought of what you will be reading! I do believe in being myself which many people do not do these days. Everyone wears a mask and that is sad. My life, as crazy it was and still is at times, may be the only way for you to be able to see as I see. So I invite you to laugh, cry with me, and be free to understand the emotional part of what it was truly like to live in my shoes!

See as I See ... I was raised as a devote Christian by my mother and father. Our family always attended non-denominational style churches, where there was much noise and liveliness going on. We attended services at least 5 days a week and there was no option in the matter. It did not matter if we were sick, we would still attend unless we were on our death bed. Besides, we would miraculously all get better after service was over. In our household, if you did not go to church, you would be lying in bed the rest of the day taking medicine. Personally, I was not that serious about faking to the point of staying in bed all day taking nasty medicine. 2-4 hours of service was doable as opposed to the consequences of staying home.

On Sunday mornings, at nine thirty we attended Sunday school. Usually this was the part of our day where stories from the bible were told. Sometimes there was a snack given to us for coming to Sunday School and participating in class. After Sunday School, we were off to praise and worship, which lasted almost an hour in the church where we attended. The funny part about remembering this is that I vividly recall having to stand the entire time, eyes closed, with my hands raised up continually in a mode of worship. It seemed to take forever, as the praise leader prayed for what seemed like the entire congregation. She was amazing, dang near calling on the dead to rise up and walk! She never ran out of words. It was just one continual prayer that would not end. Everybody around church looked so holy. To this day, I have not quite mastered this. I still peek out the corner of my eyes to see what is going on, especially if the person is long-winded. I remember my feet used to be so tired of not moving and body so tired of being frozen-like in a prayerful spirit for so long. My parents were awesome, but we as children were not wearing some comfort shoe with excellent support. Oh no! You better believe we were wearing those Payless high heels that felt like knives were digging into our feet. My toes are still scrunched together to this very day because of having to wear dress heels on Sunday.

After praise and worship, the preacher would preach a sermon for about an hour and a half. The pastor's sermons were so mesmerizing that I personally enjoyed watching him! I love black churches in general because the spirit is always high and the excitement is a constant. Apparently everyone who attended services at our church were also drawn to his eloquent speech and gestures; especially the women! Our Pastor was married, but this did not stop most of his female admirers! Pastor sometimes reminded me of a pimp because his shoes would tend to match his well decorated suits! His hair was processed to give it that curly, permed look, and he kept his goatee perfectly groomed! It was safe to say that he had that grown man swagger about him.

The thing that always got me was what came after the Pastor's sermon! You guessed it. Yet another thirty to forty minutes before the benediction. This time included testimonies, tithes and offerings, and the opening of the doors to be saved. Speaking of dragging things out; if the spirit did come that day during service, it would surely be gone by the time every person made their announcements! When service finally let out it was around one o'clock in the afternoon, but then the big test was actually getting out of the church.

My mother was a woman of God and had many Christian women that looked up to her. Immediately after church service, they would seek her out for more prayer and spiritual support. I always liked to sit around and observe the whole process. This would always amaze me. It was beautiful how my mother could command attention in a room. Everyone loved her because her personality was so magnanimous, and I am most definitely my mother's daughter (considered to be the known favorite by my parents and my siblings)! My mother was such an anointed woman of God. She loved the Lord and took pride in being a Christian woman; this was not show for her, the Lord permeated throughout her entire countenance. Her tall stature and commanding spirit was a gift for all eyes to see. It was nothing for her to start speaking in tongues aloud or to pray for someone in a loud commanding way. She did not give a hoot about who was listening. I believe that I got my spunk and boldness from her.

If you took a look at my Dad, who was then a Reverend as well as a Deacon in the church, you'd see him talking after service to someone, anyone. He was always talking. Especially if you were a person he liked. I guess being long-winded was in our family blood because many of us had the gift of gab. My daddy was and still is a very handsome man. He is light skinned, with a salt and pepper type of coloring to his moustache. He carries his six foot three inch slender frame very well. He has the look of a reverent man but he is also someone you would not want to cross. There was only one true weakness my dad had and that was my mother. When my mom spoke, daddy was like putty in her hands. Mom was worthy of such respect and throughout their entire lives and up till now, she has been my daddy's rock and he has been hers. Forty three years of marriage...