Is Prince Going to Comment on Michael Jackson's Death?

I remember when I was a gangly teenager when Prince Rogers Nelson burst onto a scene already well-saturated and dominated by Michael Joseph Jackson. "Soft and Wet" burst onto the airwaves in 1978 and all the girls in my school went nuts. It was the same year that Michael tried to assert his independence from father Joe Jackson and released his highly anticipated Quincy Jones-produced album "Off the Wall."

"Oh my God gurrrrrrl, have you seen Prince? He’s so fine!" That’s all I heard. The brotha was fine, no doubt. He was high-yellow (African-American term for a very light-skinned person of color), talented, and even though he was pretty tiny, he could pull the girls with his musical ability like a jock running down a football field. He sang about his sexual prowess, bragged musically about his conquests, and even mimicked them onstage.

Then there was Michael: He, in contrast, was terribly uncomfortable with his teen and post-teen appearance. Zits and their aftermath, a body growing faster than he was emotionally, superstardom, and promiscuous women offering him way more than he knew about left Michael more uncomfortable with himself than he already was.

Regardless, the obvious comparisons ensued. Both were born in 1958. Michael had been a child prodigy. He grew up on the rhythms of Motown and had the professional maturation of performers more than three times his age. Prince, too, grew up with the same musical baptism. But instead of being thrust into the spotlight, rode hard and put away wet by a relentless father-manager like Michael, he allegedly suffered a more private patriarchical torture. Both, in fame, still sought outward approval though it was reportedly inwardly scarce.

Local radio disk jockeys pitted them against each other. Which would reign as the king? It wasn’t immediately clear what either would be king of, but the competition was clear. Would Prince dethrone Michael as pre-eminent talent of our age?

And for a while, it seemed like the two of them bought into the game. The talent war began. Michael’s record came out (yes, I just really dated myself by calling it a "record") and it seemed within weeks Prince’s music would follow suit.

Then the weirdness began. Michael was reportedly bleaching his skin, sleeping in hyperbaric chambers to retain his youth, bidding for the Elephant Man’s bones, and dodging child molestation charges; Prince remained unusually mum regarding his personal life and held his friends and associates cult-like close to him, refused to confirm, deny or even comment on his possible child’s death, changed his name to a symbol and tattooed "SLAVE" across his face.

For a while it seemed the two were in an undeclared war for the genius and the unusual.

Then it seemed Michael went for the gold…in more ways than one. A second charge of child molestation charges, mask-wearing, and near bankruptcy devastated our most recent memory of Michael while Prince seemed to declare defeat and retreat from the madness. Prince preferred to sing about controversy. Michael Jackson chose to live it.

Prince emerged most recently as a classic R&B king, refined and cool as ever, while Michael seemed to struggle with his public - and personal - persona, despite the fact that, for all purposes, he should have seemed settled and normal. He’d had two failed marriages - just like Prince - but had produced three children, two of whom ironically were named Prince.

The damage of public life and child genius had apparently taken more of a toll of Michael than any of us had ever imagined and the world has remembered what a genius Michael Jackson was with his untimely death on Thursday, June 25, 2009. Television stations, radio stations and public-transit conversations have been halted by one topic: Michael’s dead. His genius - undeniable - has taken center stage once again and all the weirdness has been forgotten. Okay, maybe not so much forgotten as taken a back seat to his talent, humanitarianism and musical diligence, as it should have all along.

The jokes have stopped (for a while). The comparisons have stopped. The world has confirmed Michael is the King of Pop, is enjoying his music, and applauding his dance moves. Young fans like my 12-year-old son - too young to remember the Little Michael who sang ABC, I Want You Back, and Ben - are coming out of the woodwork and downloading his songs, playing his videos, and giving new life to a man who desperately needed their support three years ago when the world had all but charged and convicted him.

Michael Jackson and Prince rose and fell together in the public eye. The two had much in common and seemed to be cut from the same brilliant musical cloth. But with the throngs of condolences from fans and celebrity outpourings of sympathy, one voice has remained conspicuously silent.

I’m not sure if I’m the only one wondering, but I still ask the question: Where is Prince?