Devon Allman reminisces about his father Gregg in the August 2017 issue of relix magazine:
What went through my head when I knew my dad was about to pass away was all the time we didn’t have together. I’ll be the first to admit– that was negative thinking. I had to flip the dynamic. We didn’t do some of the basic, remedial father-son things, but I got to sing onstage with him in front of tens of thousands of people. Before I was even 18 I got a tattoo with my dad– he had to sign for it. And it wasn’t all rock stuff, either: I got to go fishing with my old man, right under the Golden Gate Bridge. We watched a lot of football together– the NFL was a shared passion. We’d go to the movies. In the last 15 years, especially, he really mellowed out. He started to get it and realized that he had a really good family.
He was certainly the soundtrack to a lot of people’s good times and bad times. But he didn’t wear that larger-than-life thing– that stature– around the house. He was a normal guy. He was shy, he was reserved, and he was a gentleman.
Relix is on the web HERE.
This popped up in the “Up Next” sidebar on YouTube, and I do rather like this one.
Original and translated lyrics below the fold.
I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all
I was just a kid when this was on the charts, so I didn’t realize how wonderful those lyrics are.
Full lyrics HERE.
An excerpt from America’s Part in the World War by Richard J. Beamish, ©1919:
A name blazoned in letters of gold will live forever in American History: CHȂTEAU-THIERRY. Around it will cluster records of immortal valor, deeds of heroism that will to the end of time shed luster upon the American soldiers who there checked the tide of tyranny when it was at its flood.
Except that the battle has been forgotten, it didn’t live forever. All of those young men, on both sides, suffered and died and it didn’t make any difference at all, except their families missed them and they never got to grow old and enjoy families of their own.
Which, somewhat unexpectedly, leads to this poignant song by Motörhead:
Full lyrics HERE.
We got to meet him two years ago before a concert, and was one of the kindest and most gracious men I’ve ever met.
I’m really sorry to see him go.
There’s a nice article about his life and passing online HERE.
At first I didn’t know what to make of this, but as I listened I realized that his interpretation makes a lot more sense than the bouncy pop version of my youth.
In her autobiography Whatever Happened to Peggy Sue? ©2008, Peggy Sue Gerron– the inspiration for the Buddy Holly song “Peggy Sue“– writes of the reverse-discrimination The Crickets endured during their first tour in 1957:
Jerry had told me about some of the problems the four Crickets had encountered on the tour. There was no set show. Acts came and went depending on their availability and the location. On this particular leg of the tour, The Crickets was the only white band riding the bus, which meant that Jerry, Buddy, Joe B., and Niki Sullivan had to become part of the black entertainers’ world.
A busload of blacks couldn’t stop in a white neighborhood to eat at a white restaurant or stay at a white hotel, and the black part of town hadn’t treated the white Crickets much better. Restaurants had refused to seat them, and hotels had refused to allow them to spend the night. If they could, they’d catch a ride to the white side of town, but if they couldn’t, they had to sleep on the bus and rely on their fellow musicians to bring them food. Sometimes, the black headliners had pretended The Crickets were their white valets just to get them into a hotel.
They were touring with acts like Fats Domino and Chuck Berry, so I imagine the learning experience of being with those two greats more than compensated for the inconveniences of their life on the road.
I’d love to know what Domino and Berry thought of the situation. Did they enjoy seeing the tables turned? Or did it just hurt in a new way?