I Saw Ya!!!

["jacqueline" <jacquelinek@monmouth.com>]

What's wet clothes when you can breathe God's good air, indeed.

Ah, Keith, will so many years go by that I won't think of you and miss you
on this day?  (and so many others)  I hope not.

What can be said about this crazed being, this rhythm demon from another
planet that hasn't already been said?

When we went to London for the convention, we took the train out to Golders
Green;  it was a beautiful day (and that helped me )but I knew I was going
to be dealing with feelings that until then felt like transparent gauze
curtains that would weave in the breeze of occasional memories:  first
seeing Tommy and Keith as Ernie; hearing the incredible-ness of Live At
Leeds; an old radio show I had taped and played to death with an interview
with him-one of the longest I have ever heard to this day; the Shepperton
shows in TKAA, seeing his illness up close for the first time; and finally
that phone call, the sound of the future of the WHO as we knew them dying
before my very ears.  At Golders Green I lay on the grass, as close as I
could get to Keith's plot without disrespectively trodding on others last
patches of land that surrounded his....no stone, no marker, just a little
mimeographed sheet that had a grid and numbers indicating the earth where
his ashes now helped the grass to grow.  I had thumped along the street from
the train station with my ever-patient husband, carrying as many flowers as
fit in my arms.  I brought bright blue carnations, white daisy types, yellow
bursts that looked like bits of sunshine.  Spreading them carefully ,
placing each in a uniform line that Keith would have probably hated, I
flashed on the clip of film from The Kids Are Alright: Keith shoving an
entire helpless daisy into his mouth and chewing with such gusto you would
have thought it a steak.  Impulsively, I grabbed a carnation and gobbled it
down, reclining on one elbow turning my head at the moment the camera in my
husbands hands captured the event.  Ah, Keith, how many flowers deaths have
you been the cause of!!!??

I don't want this to be maudlin, but it is hard to escape the fact that
without Keith, we haven't got a chance for copious amounts of new WHO music.
This is not a dis on Zak, whom I adore, but rather an observation that I
prefer to avoid pondering.  I know when the House Of Blues shows were
announced I was thrilled but at the same time heartbroken because of what I
knew I would never get to see.  It was like when I got my sweaty little
hands around the Concert File book....what a treasure!!!  But as I flipped
through the pages, looking at the dates - most of which pertained to a time
before I was even aware of the WHO - tears welled in my eyes, and a jealous
slash tore my heart for all the shows I had missed and others had attended.
My WHO glass will always be half full, I am afraid.  The Shepherds Bush
shows commenced and yet another dream come true for me made bittersweet by
the 'missing' member of my band, my guys.  I held Zaks hand backstage that
night, a rather bold and desperate gesture, trying to speak around the lump
in my throat of how the 4 shows felt like such a gift to me, such a dream
come true and how I felt in my heart that they never would have happened if
it weren't for him, that I felt Keith was very proud of him.  I am certain
he thought me loopy or at best too drunk but it was my very own truth,
shared baldly with someone I had never met (as I had never met Keith) so
sincerely, so....valid.

The whole 2000 tour I thought of Keith only occasionally; when Zak would
play as though his life depended on it, I could see that maybe things were
as they were meant to be.  But I still can't help thinking to this day,
would Keith, had he still been with us, been included on this tour?  If he
had cleaned up his act (which I still adamantly believe he was prepared to
do but terrified of ) would he been asked, would he been able to
participate?  I guess there is no use in wondering really, but as someone
who feels they missed so much in the life of the only band that matters, my
view is usually what if rather than what is.

A few weeks ago my husband and I were at a friends studio indulging in
various substances in grand Keith Moon style when my husband sat behind his
drumkit, arms waving in the air, cheeks puffed out alternating with mouth
wide open, his dark hair falling across his forehead in an all-too-familiar
fringe..he continued while I laughed until I cried.  Though he is at best a
fan by default (read: has heard every WHO song hundreds of times from living
with me!) he had Keith's moves ingrained in his mind from watching video
after video....It was just unbelievable to see, he went right across the kit
and did the 3 rolls from WGFA just about perfectly while I cheered...Little
does he know what a gift that was.

In the event that Keith knows what we feel, can see our dedication and love
for what was also his favorite band, I am hoping he knows what his life
meant to us, what his talent brought to our hearts and minds, and can
realize that in spite of his problems and faults, that he was loved.  I am
re-reading Dear Boy again, always a wonderful yet disturbing glimpse into
the psyche that was Keith.  If I read before sleeping I have the most
bizarre dreams!   In his unhappiness and loneliness and alienation and
inability to cope, though, I see everyone that I love.  We are all a little
bit Keith at times.  Fortunately, we can exercise control in situations that
he could not, but the wittiness, the carefree nothing is sacred sense of
humor is alive and well in all the people closest to me and I thank god (and
Keith!!!) for it.  Life really is too short to take too many things too
seriously.

Right then, it's off to a Remy (or two!) in honour of Keith Moon -  Drummer
Extraordinaire...former main energy source for the greatest rock and roll
band in the world, current life force unknown... but still felt.

jacqueline