So many Prince memories ... and one major regret

I was in Quebec City heading into the provincial budget lockup last March when the all-caps email hit my in box: PRINCE was performing a last minute, intimate show at Montreal's teeny (by Prince standards) Théâtre Maisonneuve. 

Now, I've been an unrepentant Prince fan for as long as I can recall.

Those synth rhythms are so woven into the memories of my teenage years I can't divorce one from another.

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I can still remember plotting with my best friend how to get to his limited Vegas run when we both had barely enough money to make rent. It never worked out, which was probably for the best, given that eviction is never as minor as it seems when making rash decisions.

I didn't actually get to a show until he made a stop in my hometown of London, Ont. a few years back.

I flew in from Montreal just for the occasion, and it was every bit as magical as I imagined it would be: the smoke machines, the falsetto, the glowing stage on which Prince seemed to erupt out of nowhere.

I was in the nosebleeds. I didn't care. 

I danced and snapped grainy photos of the stage, as one does in the midst of an experience they desperately want to remember forever.

It was fleeting. I knew it. 

So when news of his piano-accompanied solo performance in Montreal arrived last month, I immediately checked for ticket prices.

And then I gasped.

Don't get me wrong. The Prince experience was always worth every penny.

But, putting on my very best adult decision-making hat, I just couldn't justify the price.

Those tickets were going for hundreds. 

I passed by the theatre on the way home from work and tried to subdue the pangs of regret.

I'd see him next time, I told myself.

Today, when someone in our newsroom exclaimed that Prince was dead, I remembered that vow.

I wasn't alone:

I've heard this lament a lot, recently — those who passed up the chance to see David Bowie (I did too), those who gave away their ticket to the show when B.B. King rolled into town or who thought Michael Jackson would probably tour forever. 

In those regrets is a lesson we all need to remember once in awhile.

In thinking about that decision, I pondered the scores of decisions I make every day — rescheduling catch-ups with old friends under the crush of other commitments, putting off a phone call I could easily have made right away.

I wish I had just spent the money and delayed some other purchase I've already forgotten I made. 

I wish I had gone.

I'm not advocating careless and frivolous spending but sometimes, taking an extra moment to consider how once-in-a-lifetime some experiences really are, can't be a bad thing.

You don't get a second shot at everything. 

And remembering that lesson is probably the most profound thing Prince could ever have left me with. 

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