Old bones

Yesterday over breakfast I discussed the comments made about Johnny Halliday with an intelligent French friend of mine. She accepted that  whilst Johnny Halliday was France ‘s most celebrated rocker he scarcely compared with American and British music legends. She continued that the most remarkable thing was that he reached 75 at all as 10 years ago he looked on the way out.

It’s truly amazing how long those that have dedicated themselves to a life of abuse live and conversely how so many rock idols die young. In searching for a comparison I thought of Keith Richard, two years the junior of Johnny Halliday.

Prosecuted 5 times for illegal possession of drugs, his tearaway existence is epitomised by answering the question what is the most unusual thing he has ever snorted with “My father’s ashes”. He later said the remark was misconstrued.  Obviously Keith Richard, who could play every type of guitar and frequently did on stage, was the superior musician but the life styles seem comparable. One has to be careful though not to be taken in by the public image. Apparently Richard has a library of 30,000 books and would have liked to be a librarian. His fellow Rolling Stone, another who over-indulged, Mick Jagger had a father who was a PT instructor and always gave him careful instructions on how to look after himself physically.

The fact is there is neither rhyme nor reason why people make old bones.

Winston Churchill would now be classified as an alcoholic, starting every day with a stiff whisky and soda and consuming a vast amount of champagne, port and brandy throughout the day accompanied by a large Havana. He made 91.

Lovely Lillian Board, an adolescent crush of mine at school, must have been as fit as a fiddle but the athlete died not making 23 years.

The writer, broadcaster and wit Clive James is still with us and is the first to admit his severe cancer should have ended his  life years ago but modern oncology has advanced to ease him through his advancing years.