Dad to Daleks, Mom to Muppets, Uncle to Many.
Category: Memoriam
Farewell to Company B.
“Like her older sisters, Patty learned to love music as a child (she also became a good tap dancer), and she did not have to be persuaded when Maxene suggested that the sisters form a trio in 1932. She was 14 when they began to perform in public.” Patty Andrews, last of the Andrews Sisters, 1918-2013. “‘I was listening to Benny Goodman and to all the bands,’ Patty once remarked. ‘I was into the feel, so that would go into my own musical ability. I was into swing. I loved the brass section.’“
The Eagle has Landed.
Commander Neil Armstrong, the pioneer who took the first step on extra-terrestrial soil and towards our ultimate destiny, 1930-2012. “The important achievement of Apollo was demonstrating that humanity is not forever chained to this planet…our opportunities are unlimited.“
The Illustrated Man.
“If we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go into business, because we’d be cynical. Well, that’s nonsense. You’ve got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.” – Ray Bradbury, 1920-2012.
The Mic Passes.
“I’ve got more rhymes than I’ve got gray hairs, and that’s a lot because I’ve got my share.” —
Beastie Boy and founder of Oscilloscope Laboratories Adam Yauch, MCA, 1964-2012.
Four Legs in the Morn, Four Legs at Night.
“‘I think (Pusuke) waited for me to come home,’ the 42-year-old housewife said, adding that she wanted to thank Pusuke for many good memories through the years.” R.I.P. Pusuke, the world’s oldest-living dog, 1985-2011. (Above is the late hound at the ripe young age of 25.)
Still a Hoopy Frood.
“I suppose earlier generations had to sit through all this huffing and puffing with the invention of television, the phone, cinema, radio, the car, the bicycle, printing, the wheel and so on, but you would think we would learn the way these things work, which is this:
1) everything that’s already in the world when you’re born is just normal;
2) anything that gets invented between then and before you turn thirty is incredibly exciting and creative and with any luck you can make a career out of it;
3) anything that gets invented after you’re thirty is against the natural order of things and the beginning of the end of civilisation as we know it until it’s been around for about ten years when it gradually turns out to be alright really.
“In remembrance of Douglas Adams, ten years after his untimely passing: His 1999 essay, “How to Stop Worrying and Learn to Love the Internet” (although I think he too would have despised the term “webinar.”) If only he lived to see the actual, honest-to-goodness Hitchhiker’s Guides! (Pic via here, which also tells the story of Adams’ lost Doctor Who episodes.)
The Companion.
“Those sweet memories of happy days with Lis Sladen, the lovely, witty, kind and so talented Lis Sladen. I am consoled by the memories. I was there, I knew her, she was good to me and I shall always be grateful, and I shall miss her.” Elizabeth Sladen, a.k.a. the Doctor (and K-9’s) most beloved companion Sarah Jane Smith, 1946-2011.
She once was a true love of mine.
“[S]he read modern poetry, studied art and drawing, and immersed herself in Bertolt Brecht and other avant-garde playwrights. When they became a couple, Rotolo introduced Dylan to these worlds. Close friends noticed the change: ‘You could see the influence she had on him,’ said Sylvia Tyson of Ian & Sylvia. ‘This is a girl who was marching to integrate local schools when she was 15.‘”
Suze Rotolo, author, activist, and Dylan muse, 1943-2011. “‘A Freewheelin’ Time’ is one of the first histories of the folk music years written from a woman’s perspective…it goes beyond gossip to ask a pointed question: How did it feel? Rotolo writes the era mattered because ‘we all had something to say, not something to sell.’“
The Last Doughboy.
“I was just 16 and didn’t look a day older. I confess to you that I lied to more than one recruiter. I gave them my solemn word that I was 18, but I’d left my birth certificate back home in the family Bible. They’d take one look at me and laugh and tell me to go home before my mother noticed I was gone. Somehow I got the idea that telling an even bigger whopper was the way to go. So I told the next recruiter that I was 21 and darned if he didn’t sign me up on the spot! I enlisted in the Army on 14 August 1917.“
Frank Buckles, the last living American veteran of World War I, 1901-2011. “‘I knew there’d be only one some day,’ he said a few years back. ‘I didn’t think it would be me.’“