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Why we love Keith Moon
Last Saturday, I watched a documentary about Keith Moon, the late drummer of
the Who. Narrated in his usual lugubrious tone by John Peel, the programme
was unedifying.
Moon was portrayed, as always, as a drugged-up, drunken moron, whose idea of
a laugh was to let off explosives, throw a television set out of a hotel
window, or take a car for a drive in the nearest swimming pool.

This is not the reason why we get to love pop stars. The charm has more
subtle forms of expression. Years ago, I edited a biography of the Who,
written by a man who was there. The best Keith Moon story runs as follows.
The group were in Manchester. It was their second headlining tour of the
country, and on the first, they had been banned from the best hotel in town.
Kit Lambert, the band's suave and urbane manager, and Pete Townshend, the
highly intelligent guitarist, visited said hotel after the concert and
pleaded with the manager to let the group stay the night. They promised that
there would be no repeat of the previous shenanigans. They pleaded. They
prostrated themselves on the sumptuous carpet of the lobby.

The manager weakened and was on the point of allowing the Who plus entourage
to enter the sacred portal.

At that moment, Keith Moon walked in, dressed from head to foot as a wasp.
He stood there and grinned, not saying a word. The effect on the hotel
manager was galvanic.

The whole party was thrown out within the beat of a hummingbird's wing.
That's why we love Keith Moon. The true spirit of rock 'n' roll is not
located in the obvious places.

by Pete Clark
© Associated Newspapers Ltd., 30 August 2000

        -Brian in Atlanta
         The Who This Month!
        http://members.home.net/cadyb/who.htm