Alas, death in this time of corona is taking so many honorable people, not even the “In Memoriam” scroll at The Oscars could pay tribute to them all.
Then there’s my abiding concern:
When I began commenting on the deaths of famous people…, the last thing I wanted was to contribute to our culture’s perverse fascination with celebrities. In fact, I only began this feature as a lark to propagate the superstition that the deaths of famous people come in threes. …
I hereby declare that, henceforth, I shall comment only on the deaths of famous people who have made pioneering or extraordinary contributions to mankind.
(“Post Mortem on Deaths of Famous People Commentaries,” The iPINIONS Journal, June 4, 2010)
Sure enough, even though Little Richard’s contributions were not pioneering, they were quite extraordinary. The following excerpt from yesterday’s obit in The New York Times attests to this:
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Little Richard did not invent rock ’n’ roll. …
Chuck Berry and Fats Domino had reached the pop Top 10, Bo Diddley had topped the rhythm-and-blues charts, and Elvis Presley had been making records for a year.
But Little Richard, delving deeply into the wellsprings of gospel music and the blues, pounding the piano furiously and screaming as if for his very life, raised the energy level several notches and created something not quite like any music that had been heard before — something new, thrilling and more than a little dangerous.
__________
No doubt it was the “more than a little dangerous” that made so many artists of all genres want to emulate his “liberating” style. This explains why those rushing to pay tribute have included rockers like Mick Jagger, poets like Bob Dylan, actors like Viola Davis, rappers like Chance The Rapper, R&B singers like Tevin Campbell, and gay actors/activists like George Takei.
But I have a pet peeve about the way people rush to tweet (personal) condolences whenever a famous person dies. Here is how I vented this in “Hey, Moron, Personal Tweet Is…an Oxymoron,” March 6, 2015:
The expression of condolences these days seems intended more to draw attention to the person tweeting them than to comfort the person (who should be) receiving them.
Spike Lee epitomized this funereal narcissism by tweeting about a Nike commercial he made in 1991 with Little Richard and Michael Jordan, which features Spike more than either one of them.
Meanwhile, it wouldn’t surprise me if most of those tweeting condolences never even met Little Richard; or if their only personal contact with him was accidentally crossing paths backstage at a music awards show.
Apropos of which, he would probably tell the vast majority of them to take their tweets and shove it. After all, here is how he had the extraordinary balls to call out fellow artists – while on stage at The Grammys no less:
Little Richard wasn’t there Wednesday night to win a Grammy, but to present one.
‘And the best new artist is – me’ he announced. ‘I have never received nuthin’ – y’all never gave me no Grammys, and I’ve been singing for years.’
‘I am the architect of rock ‘n’ roll,? he shouted as his flustered co-presenter, Buster Poindexter, looked on and the crowd rose in a standing ovation. ‘I am the originator.’
(The Associated Press, March 3, 1988)
I suspect many of those tweeting meaningless condolences today were among those giving that meaningless ovation back then. But The Grammy Recording Academy finally presented him its Lifetime Achievement Award in 1993.
Which brings me to the ‘Prince’ in my title. Frankly, I don’t see how anyone could fail to see in His Purple Majesty resemblances to, if not imitations of, Little Richard – from the pompadour and fake eyelashes even down to the pencil mustache.
It’s even arguable that Prince was inspired to stroke his guitar by the way Little Richard humped his piano. Never mind that, like me, you can probably name 20 hit songs Prince had for every one Little Richard had. In fact, after “Good Golly, Miss Molly,” “Long Tall Sally,” and “Tutti Frutti,” I draw blanks for the latter.
That said, perhaps the most interesting thing about Little Richard was his ostentatiously futile efforts to reconcile his religious faith with his hedonistic lifestyle.
If Richard’s stage show could get a little wild, it was nothing compared to his life offstage. …
Drug addiction, cross-dressing, ‘wonderful’ bisexual orgies, and voyeurism — Little Richard indulged himself royally and wasn’t shy about it. …
Although Richard — who was inundated with naked photos and phone numbers from female fans — would call himself ‘omnisexual’, women appeared to be chiefly a prop for his sexual interest in men. He would later say that he had been ‘gay all my life’.
(The Daily Mail, May 11, 2020)
This is why I was so dismayed in recent years that Little Richard was testifying about having yet another “conversion” and no longer being gay. Because this tortured soul spent much of his life wrestling with two of the signature issues of his time, namely
- whether he should play gospel or rock; and
- whether he was straight or gay.
Of course, one of the many extraordinary things about him is that he ended up doing and being both, respectively.
Little Richard died on Saturday in Tennessee. He was 87.
Farewell, Little Richard.
Jerry Stiller…
Comedian Jerry Stiller features prominently in my seasonal Happy Festivus commentary. Therefore, it would be remiss if I did not accord him this honorable mention.
And I can think of no better way of doing so than to note how no less a person than Jerry Seinfeld paid tribute. He merely tweeted a picture of himself holding the cover of the 1967 vinyl comedy album “The Last Two People in the World” by Jerry Stiller and his wife Anne Meara.
Stiller died on Monday at his home in New York City. He was 92.
Farewell, Jerry.
Related commentaries:
Hey, moron… Prince…
Happy Festivus…