Little Richard started out 100 yards ahead of everyone else and he never gave that lead up in his 87 years on Earth. Richard Wayne Pettiman died today of terminal awesomeness and that is all I need to know. Little Richard could take any song, any song, and make it his own whether it be this one, Rubber Duckie or that one, Itsy Bitsy Spider. Little Richard was so far ahead, and so ignored and ripped off, it led to an often bitter life. Gay, not gay. omnisexual, gay, not gay again. Its a shame that Little Richard couldn't have come around at a time where he could have just been himself. He'd have been the GREATEST. He was the Greatest, but nobody knew it. Never a damn time that I saw Little Richard on TV or heard him on the radio did I not for one of the few times in my miserable life not be glad to be alive. He made me happy.
Years ago, some sort of Oldies Show came to the cement building officially known as the Omaha Civic Auditorium. I was in my concert infancy in the early 70s. The lineup I barely remember, I do remember Bill Haley and the Comets, The Shirelles and one other guy.
Little Richard, who I was not all that familiar with, I mean I thought Long Tall Sally was a Beatles song for gawds sake, came onto the stage in a floor length fur coat, a pile of hair that made him look like a French Revolution aristocrat, and a smile as big as the moon. The applause was so much more intense than it had been for the other acts. Little Richard let his handler take his coat, he cracked it was just something he found at Sears, and he sat at a piano and began tickling the keys unlike anyone I'd ever seen. The place went crazy. It was thrilling to hear this man wooooooooooo and scream the lyrics to suggestive songs with a rhyme kids like tone. I have never forgotten it. I never saw him again but I didnt need to. Little Richard was like a chip in my brain.
He was the best. I hope he found peace.
1 comment:
He defined how to 'BE YOURSELF' in an era where that was empirically difficult (one had to MASK their 'true natures'), yet you seem to teach, ironically as a father of the 'me' generation, to stroke the egos of conformity and play into unhinged hysteria. It's adversity that makes the man (you know this), and not shame blogging. Take off your MASK and go outside. The world is not going to end. Like Carlin says, the planet is ok. It's people (i.e. Max's Dad) that need to adapt. Carlin peddled hope more than rage. You've got to figure out a better understanding of mortality/morality. The one you currently wield is deranged. You are loved. Know that.
You're too smart to see the world with as much vitriol as you do. This existence can be a really good time, with really good people who all want ultimately what you want: a reason to feel good. Some people might have different ways of feeling good than you do. That's ok. Embrace the diversity. Find something to love and tell that story more often than your various rages. This 'land' was made for you AND me. We can succeed together... we must.
With hope in our hearts and love in our lungs.
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