At the end of each year I am encouraged by my publisher to
do a personal take on some of those not joining us in 2007.
For the most part I leave it to much grander publications
than the Bali Advertiser to mark the passing of the Great
and the Good, though I do make note of some of the infamous.
The list is, as I say, a personal one including names that
may not be familiar to all, reflecting my own age, background
and interests.
Obit lists are interesting on many counts. Not least being
how we die. As usual the main cause of death in 2006 was cancer,
followed by heart disease, mostly incurred between the ages
of 60 to 80. Sad to see so many vital lives cut short by what
has been described as “life style” disease. The
third largest cause of death is, blessedly, old age and natural
causes.Then, all other known diseases, followed by accidents,
next comes murder and suicide. As ever, the music industry
has more than it’s fair share of early deaths, notably
60’s rockers leaving the scene on hitting 60.
In addition to the very old, 260 being the oldest and 126
the oldest human, a significant number making it to 112, 2006
sees the departure of a dwindling number of those serving
in the Great War, all well over 100. Next we see the passing
in their 80’s of what has been called the Great Generation.
WW2 vets, D-Day landers, Battle of Britain aces, sundry SOE
and OSS spooks, leaders of the Maquis, ambushers of Admiral
Yamamoto, Tokyo Rose and the like.
So here in no particular order are my nominations for 2006:
Starting with oldest, I salute Addyaita (260+), giant Aldabran
tortoise whom, it is reputed, was a friend of Clive of India
and the Duke of Wellington. Also, I must honour that great
grey National Hunt champion, Desert Orchid, one of the sweetest
natured and remarkable winners over the sticks of all time,
who died peacefully in his stable aged 27. While on the subject
of horses, how can I let 2006 go without mention of the world’s
greatest jockey, Scobie Breasley (92) with over 1,000 wins
in his native Australia and 2,161 wins in the U.K.
Contrary to what you may be thinking, I didn’t spend
all my youth at the races or my afternoons come 2.30pm closing
time in smoke-hazed betting shops. Nor was I particularly
into soccer, but while on the subject of sport I must make
mention of Chelsea striker Peter Osgood. Osgood really was
good. Even less was I into cricket, but I’m taken back
to darkened drawing rooms, breeze-blown curtains at french
windows opening onto sunny Summer afternoons in the 50’s
with the compellingly monotonous drone of John Arlott softly
emanating from the TV, recounting the remarkable exploits
of Yorkshire’s demon bowler Freddy Trueman (75), who
played a major role on the few occasions England managed to
wrest The Ashes from the Aussies.
As a pre-teen I was dimly aware of the things my stepfather
and elder brother got up to in London and couldn’t wait
to end my enforced young persons rustication and do my bit.
I would note book matches from interesting places like Rico
Dajou’s Cabaret Club, or Casanova Club in the big glass
bowl of matches in the loo. One of the more seemly things
I longed for was the theatre. Around the time of “Whatever
Lola Wants...” there was a wonderfully innocent and
catchy musical called “Salad Days”, so I mark
the passing of its composer, in search of a piano, Julian
Slade (76).
In last issue I took a fond look at the early days of Rock
n’ Roll so I honour the passing of Ahmed Ertegun (83),
who more than anyone brought the great names of rock music
into the mainstream. Also, the great James Brown (73), in
at the beginning and going strong right up to the end. Wilson
Picket (64) of the Midnight Hour definitely makes the list,
as does velvet-voiced Lou Rawls (72). Take note too of the
passing of Pink Floyd’s troubled Syd Barrett (60). I
liked reggae, until it got done to death like Bob Marley,
but more than reggae I liked the ska that preceded it. A late
and sunny exponent was Desmond Dekker (64) with his hit The
Israelites. And while we’re at it, let’s not forget
that crescendo of narrative pop, Gene Pitney (66). In my days
as jazz aficionado bop was my thing, from Charlie Parker through
to Ornette Coleman, after which it got too atonal for my ears.
One of the later underrated players I liked most was the raw,
bluesy, driving tenor sax of Jackie MacClean(73).
Britons like to pride themselves on their national sense of
humour. It’s true, some of the world’s greatest
funnymen have been Brits, but I wouldn’t go so far as
to describe it as a national trait exactly.The kiss of death
is the title “Great British Comic”, and performing
before the Queen at the London Palladium. In this yawn-inducing
number I include the likes of Ken Dodd, Norman Wisdom, Morecombe
& Wise et. al. Prominent among them was the cringingly
unfunny Charlie “Hello, My Darlings” Drake, whose
boomerang wouldn’t come back. Not funnymen exactly,
but spare a thought anyway for a brace of chequered knights,
Freddy Laker and John Profumo, who each contributed to the
pot in their own special way.
In Britain, until I guess the mid 70’s, you could walk
into a cinema any time of day and stay as long as you wanted.
The program just kept rotating with an accompanying “B”
movie. Among the lesser known “B” movie/TV character
actors who have left us are: craggy lantern-jawed journeyman
actor Patrick Allen (79), though I have to say I can’t
recall a single movie he’s been in; the ever-debonair
William Franklyn, whose main claim to fame was a 60’s
commercial for Schweppes. I remember him best for a role in
Polanski’s Cul-de-Sac, mainly because it featured Catherine
Deneuve’s darker sister Françoise Dorleac, whose
person I was keenly interested in. Other thespians I’ll
miss are Shelley Winters, Tom Bell (73), Glen Ford, Jack Palance
(87) and director Robert Altman (81).
Among writers, the spiky, gutsy and very funny Muriel Spark
(88) will definitely be missed. Maybe just as spiky, feminist
Betty Friedan (83) deserves honourable mention, as does the
even gutsier and deliciously iconoclastic Oriana Fallaci.
Definitely a literary genre of its own, let’s say farewell
to Mickey Spillane (88). Coming to the Great and the Good,
the departure of economist and statesman, Kenneth K. Galbraith
(97) marks the passing of an age when the rest of us could
actually look up to an America that, on the whole, was on
the side of the angels. Amazing, isn’t it, how quickly
perceptions can change?
Some Who Won’t be Missed....
Each year sees to the passing from the scene of a number of
people of whom it might be wished that they had shuffled this
mortal coil sooner than they did. Maybe mourned by some but
not by most, 2006 sees the back of:
Alfredo Stroessner: classic exemplar of a Latin American tinpot
caudillo, epaulettes and all, who misruled Paraguay for far
too long.
Augusto Pinochet: a more modern variant of this foul breed.
Ta Mok (80), known as “The Butcher”, who along
with his murderous Khmer Rouge colleagues (all of whom seem
to have evaded justice) played a key role in what must be
pro rated as the largest mass killing in one country in human
history.
Slobodan Milosovic, notorious self-server, responsible not
only for the deaths and murder of tens of thousands of his
one-time countrymen, but an unmitigated disaster for Serbia
itself.
Sam Bowers (82), a really nasty piece of work, KKK Grand Master,
lynch-leader and murderer. Managed to evade justice for decades
finally being brought to justice for the murder of civil rights
workers back in the 60’s.
Getting back to nicer folk, let’s not forget a fond
farewell for Coretta Scott King (78) and elegant French transexual
Cocinelle (75), who each marked a particular era.
Meantime, for those of us continuing the journey on into 2007,
Happy New Year!
