I mentioned the photographer David Gepp yesterday, and who should ring me this evening but David? Although he lives in deepest mid-Wales, where mobile phone connections are merely a rumour, David is originally from Belfast, and a Van Morrison fan (no surprise there). Before we hung up, it struck me that there was a question I had to ask.
Perhaps you remember that in the post "G-L-O-R-I-A" I wrote, "Can you imagine what it must have been like hearing Them improvise Gloria in those legendary extended sessions at the Maritime Hotel in Belfast?" It had struck me that David was of an age, inclination and origin for this not to be a rhetorical question. And, as it turns out, it wasn't: he had indeed actually stood outside the Maritime Hotel, drinking, while Them played "Gloria" inside.
On oblique claims to fame, some other time I may reveal how Harold Macmillan, sometime Prime Minister, once had to complain about the late-night noise from my stereo. Oh, and when we once saw Tommy Cooper checking out the shoes in a shop window in Luton.
But enough of this celebrity gossip!
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8 comments:
Apres Moi le Deluge:
I went to see Ry Cooder & David Lindley at The Queen Elizabeth Hall a few years ago and sat in the same row as Eric Clapton. I then walked down the stairs next to him after the show. I really had no idea what to say - too starstruck? So I said nothing. Also, I was once hit in the ear with a billiard cue by Phil Collins at a Genesis gig at Bletchley Youth Club in 1972. A few years later I met him at the bar of the Nelly Dean in Dean Street, darkest Soho. When I told him about it he bought me a pint. So much for the stories about him being tight!
Yes, the first one is definitely oblique enough to count, though the second part of the second one is a little too much of a real encounter, involving words and drinks.
One of my work colleagues is perpetually haunted by such encounters, usually with minor, "name escapes me" celebs. She only has to buy a pair of shoes for That Bloke From That Film to trip over her handbag.
Of course, she might be completely mad, too.
Mike
I think I once got drunk with Alan Hull of Lindisfarne. We sat at a table in the bar of The Roundhouse and bought each other drinks all afternoon (it was on one of those long Sunday gigs we used to go to ith Duncan Aitcheson - possibly mis-spelt). As we didn't talk much - and I was less than sober at the time - I really can't be sure if actually was Mr Hull.
I'll keep the rest of those sort of stories to myself.
Hmm, I think we need a new category for that story...
It reminds about the joke about the nun who claims to have entertained Saint Michael (with the punchline/proof being that his name tag was sewn in his underpants), or perhaps Graham Greene's famous personator "Graham Greene", who ran up large bar bills across Europe.
Perhaps, "He Said He Was Someone Famous"?
Perhaps it was me . . ?
My financial adviser, if you fill him full enough with red wine, will admit that when he was part of a rock band in Belfast in the 1960s he and his mates tried out the young and pre-Them George Ivan Morrison for a possible place in their line-up, but turned him down because they felt he was too blues-oriented.
I bought the house I now live in from Dave Cousins of the Strawbs: the fecker made us pay an extra 10k at the last minute to complete the deal.
Hi, Martyn! VERY long time no see.
Dave alerted me to your beery presence on the web, and I'm impressed by your, um, sober and informative approach to the subject (btw, why don't we spell "sober" "sobre"?).
I may start banning people if this starts turning into a "renegade Alleynians" forum... Email me if you fancy a catch-up chat (or don't if you don't).
Mike
OOh! I could tell you some stories about how unpleasant Dave Cousins could be. . . but not as many as my mate Brendan who knows how to hold a grudge.
Mind you, I still listen to him occasionally (Cousins, not Brendan!).
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