Perhaps most impressive was that none of us were watching with our phones or recording.
Perhaps most impressive was that none of us were watching with our phones or recording -- and as it crept past last call and into those late-night hours that are so rare for LA, even texting became verboten.
We were all in the moment together -- a true rarity in this town where we’re all guilty of social media narcissism, trying to prove that we’re at the right place, right when we are. In this case, we all actually were -- and there’s no question that Prince, himself an insular, private person, even at his most public, would have approved.
Sometime after 2am, with Chappelle, Mayer, Nas, and Wonder all on stage, one of No Name's owners came up to me: “If the cops come in at this point,” he said, “I’m just gonna point to the stage and shrug.”
And by the time it all ended -- with “Purple Rain” and Chappelle telling a moving story about the last time he saw Prince alive, at the White House, with Stevie Wonder and the Obamas, under a picture of George Washington -- it all seemed like a dream. There’s no way it could have happened.