Rodeo Prince

I was married to a rodeo prince who rode in and rode out and for a while made my life in the bleachers marvelous and crazy and colorful. I watched as he barrel raced through life, scared for him, and scared for me, but he always came through relatively unscathed, I think. Together we had three beautiful rodeo girls who embody most of the best of their dad, and I often wonder, if he knows how lucky he really is, if he knows how much these three amazing women love him, in spite of his rodeo ways.

Okay, he wasn’t really a rodeo prince, but actually a roadie with Prince. I was telling some people about my past recently, recalling that when I was married, it never quite seemed like I was married, because my ex was gone a lot, because he was a roadie with Prince, and this one guy goes, “Wait, wait, a rodeo prince, what’s that?” Sweet. Indeed, what is that?

Rodeo Prince: A man you fall in love with who doesn’t have the ability (read: self awareness to work at interpersonal relationships) to settle down. It is just not ‘in him.’ It’s okay, make the best of it, and don’t watch if it makes you squeamish as they risk-take through life. Stay if you can, or get out if you need to. Wish them well and relish the stories you live to tell.

Like the time he was kidnapped in Italy. I was a stay at home mom with those three adorable girls. We had a four-square with a big porch with white spindles and a little Strawberry Shortcake white table set out there, and the Little Tykes fridge and stove out there too. The girls would play house on the porch in the summer, and I’d bring them little peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I was the Kool-Aid mom, and loved it most of the time. Sure, I was resentful sometimes that Steve got so much attention for his job, and people were calling all the time for tickets to shows; but hey, I got to stay home!

I got to wear rock n roll t-shirts and play at the beach with my girls. So, it was quite a strange experience when one beautiful summer day in Owatonna, while Steve was on a European tour, (as stagehand and special effects technician) and I’d spent most of the day at Lake Kohlmeier, tossing laughing toddlers into the waves; to come home to a phone message that said, “Hey Dove, we’re still in Italy, but don’t worry, really, don’t worry.” This message was worrisome. I’d just talked to Steve, why was he so emphatic that I not worry? And why were they still in Italy?

Then Steve’s grandmother called, “Is Stephen okay? We just got a phone message from him, and he’s never called us from Europe, ever.” Then Steve’s mom called, and said, “Steve left a message from Italy, saying don’t worry, but they’ve been detained.” I told her I was just as concerned, but hadn’t heard back from Steve, yet. What was I to make of this? I kept waiting for another call from Steve, but it didn’t come. Instead, a local TV station from the Twin Cities called me, they told me they had word that the Prince entourage was being detained in Italy, and they wanted to know, “What do you know regarding this?”

I don’t know how they knew Steve was on this tour, but he knew a ton of people, he also worked as a production manager for a Twin Cities office of a company based in Chicago. He knew people. And now the media was calling me, in Owatonna. I told them all I knew, which was nothing, really. Until the next day, when Steve called me and told me what had happened. Here’s the skinny; certain people in Italy put up some front money for a concert. Concert did not make as much money as these people had hoped. Certain people sent thugs backstage to lock stage crew (trucks et al) into the arena, and beat up one of the crew members, just to let everyone know they meant business. Same people demand that Prince wire money for release of crew. Prince, being the good guy that he is, obliges, and crew packs up stage and moves on. That’s all.

There is a small blurb in the Minneapolis newspaper weeks later, stating that the Prince crew was ‘detained’ in Italy. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about this; but I think that clause has run out now. This was August, 1990, can you believe it? Nearly 20 years ago. Finally, the whole story can be told!