After the Storm

This might more accurately be titled After the Storms; because we had at least three, one of them registering 122 mile winds at the Needles, IOW, which is too close for comfort, and an all time record.

The storm has passed; its fury spent

No more for me the punishment

Of darkened view; of helpless terror

Of knowing my time was spent in error

The storm has passed; it could not win

Though I do know that I have sin

The storm has passed; it did not break

That which it sought to unmake

Helpless in the face of its might

Living through one long night

But now, my love, I stand with you

And watch the bright new day anew

The storm has passed; it failed to shake

I could not let it dictate

Its fury did rend my tortured soul

Its claws now dragged back to hole

But now the sun does shine on earth

And once again I feel my worth

The storm has passed; failed; in defeat

And in its place there now stands peace

No place for me on gallows hill

Set down for me is life’s pure thrill

This wind of change blows pure and clear

And music I can once more hear

Little Richard

 

My best friend during the explosive rock 'n' roll era was Steve Howe who went on to become a guitarist of some note in his own right. We really enjoyed all the emerging bands and artistes in the 1950s, but head and shoulders above all of them was the phenomenon known as Little Richard.

Born Richard Wayne Penniman on 5 December 1932, in Macon, Georgia, Little Richard was the third of twelve children. His father, Bud, was a stern man who made his living selling moonshine and didn’t do much to hide his disdain for his son’s flamboyant style. At the age of thirteen, Little Richard was ordered to move out of the family home, and his relationship with his father was never repaired. When Little Richard was nineteen, his father was shot dead outside a local bar.

The childhood that Little Richard did manage to have was largely shaped by the church. Two of his uncles, as well as his grandfather, were preachers, and Little Richard was involved with the church as much as anyone in his family, singing gospel and eventually learning to play the piano.

Upon moving out of his family’s home, Little Richard was taken in by a white family who owned a club in Macon, where he eventually began performing and honing his talent.

In 1951 Little Richard caught his first major break when a performance at an Atlanta radio station yielded a record contract with RCA. But with a repertoire of mainly mild blues numbers that masked the searing vocals and piano that would come to define his rock music, his career failed to take off as he had hoped it would.

In 1955, Little Richard hooked up with Specialty Records producer Art Rupe, who had been hunting for a piano-pounding frontman to lead a group of musicians in New Orleans. In September, Little Richard stepped into the recording studio and pumped out “Tutti Frutti,” an instant Billboard hit which reached Number One. Over the next year and a half, the musician churned out several more rock 'n' roll hits, including “Long Tall Sally,” “Good Golly Miss Molly,” and “Send Me Some Lovin’.” With his blood-pumping piano playing and suggestive lyrics, Little Richard, along with the likes of Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis, established rock 'n' roll as a real musical form which would inspire others.

In addition to his records, Little Richard appeared in several early rock films, such as Don’t Knock the Rock (1956), The Girl Can’t Help It (1957) and Mister Rock ‘n’ Roll (1957). As far as Steve and I were concerned, nobody had the explosive energy, powerful delivery and total madness of Little Richard.

In 1986 Little Richard was one of the ten original inductees into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame. He was a recipient of a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences in 1993, and a year later the Rhythm & Blues Foundation honoured him with its prestigious Pioneer Award.

In later years, the once-dynamic performer retreated from the concert stage. He fell ill during a show in Washington, DC, during the summer of 2012. The following September, Little Richard suffered a heart attack. He described the incident to Cee Lo Green during an interview in Atlanta: "The other night, I didn’t know I was having a heart attack. I was coughing, and my right arm was aching." 

The singer took baby aspirin, which his doctor credited with saving his life. The deeply religious music icon attributed his survival to a higher power: "Jesus had something for me. He brought me through."

Little Richard's agent confirmed that the singer passed away on 9 May 2020, in Nashville, Tennessee, from bone cancer.

I miss Little Richard enormously, and still play his records all the time, as I am sure Steve Howe does.

Steve Howe, LSD and Me

For Stephen Howe

 

An expressionist tribute to my old chum Steve Howe of YES fame. I employed a Gibson and a Fender for its execution. The avant-garde is an area, perhaps the only area, Stephen has avoided on guitar.

Peter Cushing Lived in Whitstable

Portrait of Peter Cushing (oil on canvas) by †Seán Manchester 

Peter Cushing's house where he lived with his wife Helen.

Tudor Tea Rooms, Whitstable.

Adieu Cherry Tree

When we first arrived about ¼ century ago, prior to which our residece was well over a hundred miles away, we inherited a mature cherry tree in the corner of the grotto adjacent to the detached garage. It seemed to be on its last legs, but twelve months later showed significant signs of recovery. The ivy took over to fill the tree, making the entire setting picturesque in the extreme. All was well until two years ago when a neighbouring property to the west decided to put down a patio in the north-east corner of their garden. To do this, the hired gardeners dug deep in that corner where once a wooden shed had stood, and, discovering a bevy of roots (originating from the ivy and cherry tree) proceeded to put down poison. First the lush ivy withered, followed, slowly, by the cherry tree. When we noticed that even a sparrow alighting on a twig would snap it off, causing it to instantly fall, we realised that the entire tree would follow suit. It was dying; indeed, it was in its last days. The decision was reluctantly taken to put it out of its misery before a heavy branch landed on somebody's head and did some serious damage. Tree surgeons were called in, but only one could act swiftly enough for our liking. Thus, yesterday, they arrived to take away our dead cherry tree. Nice chaps who knew what they were doing, it should be said, and we were not too upset watching the tree fall piecemeal. Adieu!

"Did a Wampyr Walk in Highgate?" Fifty One Years Ago