Gone
Apparently the main topic of conversation this morning is the Colorado cinema shootings. I actually know about that, since it was on the front page of Wikipedia and thus unavoidable, but in my own house the topic of conversation this morning is about how I still can't say the phrase 'Jon Lord was' without tearing up.
The years go by and more and more of my old friends/colleagues/drinking partners cease to live and breathe. It never fails to gut me, largely because each death is another painful ha-ha-it'll-be-your-turn-one-of-these-days reminder of my own approaching mortality. But. But.
There are some people who simply shouldn't die, not at least until they reach their nineties. The Rolling Stones, for example. Paul McCartney. The venerable and still fabulous Mr Jones. And Jon Lord was one of those.
He was also, back in the day, a dear and valued friend, fellow keyboard monster, and the gentlemanliest pub roisterer ever asked oh so politely to leave a premises (yes, we were standing on tables and singing very loudly, but it was cheerful, non-threatening loud singing and table-standing and everyone in the pub save the landlord was enjoying us). He was one of the nicest nice guys in the rock business.
Jon Lord inspired a generation, two generations, of musicians. He carried on gigging across the years, and always was worth the price of admission. Along with Holder, he was one of the very last former-colleagues/friends/drinking-partners I stopped being in touch with after I left That Business.
I mourn.
The years go by and more and more of my old friends/colleagues/drinking partners cease to live and breathe. It never fails to gut me, largely because each death is another painful ha-ha-it'll-be-your-turn-one-of-these-days reminder of my own approaching mortality. But. But.
There are some people who simply shouldn't die, not at least until they reach their nineties. The Rolling Stones, for example. Paul McCartney. The venerable and still fabulous Mr Jones. And Jon Lord was one of those.
He was also, back in the day, a dear and valued friend, fellow keyboard monster, and the gentlemanliest pub roisterer ever asked oh so politely to leave a premises (yes, we were standing on tables and singing very loudly, but it was cheerful, non-threatening loud singing and table-standing and everyone in the pub save the landlord was enjoying us). He was one of the nicest nice guys in the rock business.
Jon Lord inspired a generation, two generations, of musicians. He carried on gigging across the years, and always was worth the price of admission. Along with Holder, he was one of the very last former-colleagues/friends/drinking-partners I stopped being in touch with after I left That Business.
I mourn.