There's a saying that goes along the lines of 'Everyone knows where they were when JFK died.' I'm too young to remember, although I do remember 9/11 and where I was when I found out Diana had died. Whilst she was a good egg, although a little dense and deluded, the death of Mother Theresa the same week saddened me more. Now there really was a woman who'd given up everything to serve those less well off than herself, and yet her passing was lost in the UK by the mass hysteria that followed. By the way Daily Express your Monday headline of Diana was murdered is getting a bit boring now.
I'm also not sure where I was when Winston Churchill died, again too young, although apparently I was miffed that the Woodentops was taken off for coverage of his State Funeral. Without my weekly dose of Spotty Dog life must have seen very ordinary.
I do remember when Keith Moon died. For those who are too young to remember, he was the madcap hell raising drummer from The Who. It was around my 18th birthday. He basically drank himself to death - and I think drugs may have been involved as well.
18th birthday parties were the thing then. There was two a month starting with mine, as my birthday was a September one. My mum booked the Methodist Church Hall through a friend - probably became an ex-friend shortly afterwards, and drink and rock and roll was the order of the day or night. We spent the day doing the buffet, my mum gaining a lot of credibility amongst the lads for using 'real butter' not marge on the cobs. (by default that probably gave me credibility, although my mum did fall into the 'fit mum's' category, and I never fell into the 'Fit girl's' category - only the 'good mates' category.
After the party, which was a good one, although sadly I can't remember a lot about it - apart from some neighbours complaining about the noise. Still wanting to carry on with the celebrations, the Plough lads and I went round to MW's house to drink whatever was left of the alcohol - Babycham!! About 2am I walked round the corner home. (although at that time of the night, I ran past the graveyard. A few years later a mate of mine fell asleep in there on top of a grave on his way home, imagine the poor soul who saw him 'arise from the grave', they probably still sleep with the light on.) The lads walked the other way into town.
GVH started talking about Keith Moon, and his party tricking of 'Mooning' at the audience. Of course some of the lads didn't know what Mooning was. So, the next car that passed, GVH dropped his trousers and showed his bum to the driver. The lads obviously thought this was funny, and one by one, they joined in. Eventually another car could be heard, and they quickly strung themselves out across the road, and eight of them dropped their trousers. On came the blue light, and they all had a lift to the Police Station.
The Desk Sergeant started taking details, name? where are you going? where have you been? As the lads answered, he went white. His 17 year old quite shy daughter had been to a party in Rolleston - what on earth had gone on, and was she safe? I think she had to be dropped off and picked up for some time after that.
'Won't get fooled again' is my favourite 'Who' hit. The drumming on there is genius as Moon changes the pace of the song