...
First there was David with Rick Beato making me dream about writhing around on a big beanbag half-naked with him fifty years ago at that party in Sausalito, hearing his voice like my eardrums had grown into my guts.
And then Kenny linked us to that night at Albert Hall which had me blubbering again about the souls there who have passed, the twinkles in the brume of a long memory, their presence in my entire adult life.
Now, Guy's back from surgery with his arm in a strange rig, and Gary's back from holiday to natter with Boy George about his outrageous youth. Guy seemed to me to be mostly enduring it, fading in and out of his characteristic affability for us.
I think he'll keep David happening for as long as he's got, and will, I hope, someday write a book about his involvement with so many giants of our lifetimes for the fiends of the future.
Not that I don't like them, but I was not moved to go listen to Boy George hits, and I love Guy up there onstage with David so much. It was such a huge lift after Roger. Even if Roger turns out to have a heart after all, speaking up everywhere for Palestine, and paying off Kiriakou's mortgage anonymously when Nosbaracktu had thrown him in prison for being a blazingly faithful American. Roger had gotten to be worse than a millstone on everyone concerned with Pink Floyd.
So Guy really has been for all these decades THE perfect antidote.
pipe up any time....
