You may be somewhat surprised to find that the subject of this post is a Boomtown Rat, in fact, he could be described as the Boomtown Rat. I refer to Sir Bob Geldof. What do I, a crusty and mildewed, old Brit know about a pop star zillionaire? Zilch! Nada! Or, as Sir Bob might put it himself, 'fuck all'! However, he and his erstwhile 'band' do stick in my memory for the simple reason that it was SoD's first (and I think, only) teenage 'pash' for pop music, or, pap music, as I prefer to think of it. I seem to remember allowing him, with considerable reluctance, to go to a nearby gig featuring the Boomtown Rats from which, thankfully, he returned only half-stoned!
Since then, 'Sir Bob' has, apparently, forged quite a career for himself as a TV producer and international charity agitator, neither of which activities were likely to impress me. The fact that he was 'Oirish' was yet another barrier between him and me. Of course, the name Geldof should have tipped me off that he had some mitigating Jewish blood in him but the fact is that he and his doings were a mere speck on my personal horizon and only the very slight connection between him and SoD made me remember his name.
Consequently, you can imagine my shame and embarrassment on reading Taki's column in this week's Spectator. If you had asked me thirty minutes ago what Taki was likely to say about Geldof I would have admitted to ignorance but would have been quite certain that the words would have been written in blood! Taki, by and large, is not given to soppy softness when it comes to people he dislikes. So imagine my face when I read this:
For those of us who know Bob Geldof well, he may use the F-word more than necessary at times, but he’s an extraordinary man. A rock star who neither drinks nor smokes, he’s a walking encyclopedia and has read more serious books than all the rock stars put together have had one-night stands. My heart goes out to him because he is a very loving father whose suffering the jackals of the tabloids cannot imagine as they circle for their story. The famed Band Aid and Live Aid organiser is a wonderful father as he is a family man. He has endured a lot of personal grief and has endured it with dignity. Thank God for his wonderful French girlfriend, Jeanne Marine, and his other three daughters. His statement to the press was typical of Sir Bob: Writing ‘was’ destroys me afresh. What a beautiful child.
Oh dear! Collapse of stout party - again! I take nothing back from my previous criticisms concerning large-scale, so-called 'poverty relief programmes', such as Band Aid, which, as far as I can see simply enrich the fat cats running the charities, and the various gangsters and murderers who run the countries involved. However, in so far as I ever thought about him at all, my dismissive opinion of Bob Geldof was clearly mistaken and I apologize. In addition, of course, I recognize that to bury a beloved daughter is a grievous wound for any man to bear.