Jazzed

George Melly is dead. Another great character has gone.
I can remember seeing him on TV as a kid. I fell in love with his hats first, then his amazingly outrageous suits and open bisexuality.
My Grandfather wasn’t keen on Jazz and hardly any was played in the house.
He certainly wasn’t too keen on George; “Bloody Shirtlifter!” seemed to be his considered opinion.
The Grandfather’s thoughts on jazz were not much better,
‘5 people on a stage all playing a different tune. It’s bloody noise, NOISE!”
Something about the discordant element of it has always appealed to me.
Especially as it appeared to get on his tits SO much! He never stopped me listening to it though. He would stomp around, grimacing every now and then and saying, ‘Jesus’, through gritted teeth.

George was diagnosed with dementia and then lung cancer. He refused treatment for the cancer and said that, as a Surrealist he found dementia ‘entertaining and appropriate’.
What a brilliant attitude to have.
He’s dead at 80.
A man who lived the width of his life as well as the length of it.
I hope Bessie Smith is singing at the gates, if and when he arrives.
Thanks George.
Thanks for the Bessie Smith in my collection and my array of hats.

Yesterday I watched the whole of the first series of ‘Shameless’.
Today I’m getting stuck into series two.
Absolutely cracking show! I recognise a little bit too much of my Dad though.
Right.
Scatter!