Rome

Marriage didn't change for him when he was 65.

Funny that Mick is insecure about his looks. Keith has never mentioned disliking his own prominent ears. Mick's ears and feet look pretty normal.

Don't remember the words exactly, but in "Life", Keith said something on the order of, in regard to organized religion and all that, "Preachers are all about making money, not about god". Ain't discovered anything in any organized religion and the 20 million televangelists here on t-v in the U-S-of A, to make me think different. And before I have 40 billion true belivers come after me, this is just my opinion, folks. I live and let live regarding anyone and most anything unless it's coming down on me and my people.

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dmay
Don't remember the words exactly, but in "Life", Keith said something on the order of, in regard to organized religion and all that, "Preachers are all about making money, not about god". Ain't discovered anything in any organized religion and the 20 million televangelists here on t-v in the U-S-of A, to make me think different. And before I have 40 billion true belivers come after me, this is just my opinion, folks. I live and let live regarding anyone and most anything unless it's coming down on me and my people.

O.K. Let's see what he said :
Not that we ever had the fear of God in our family. There's nobody in my family that ever had anything to do with organized religion. None of them. I had a grandfather who was a red-blooded socialist, as was my grandmother. And the church, organized religion, was something to be avoided. Nobody minded what Christ said, nobody said there wasn't a God or anything like that, but stay away from organizations. Priests would be considered with much suspicion. See a bloke in a black frock, cross the road. Mind out for the Catholics, they're even dodgier. They had no time for it. Thank God, otherwise Sundays would have been even more boring than they were. We never went to church, never even knew where it was.
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Dunedin, for instance, almost the southernmost city in the world, in New Zealand. It looked like Tombstone and it felt like it. It still had hitching rails. It was a Sunday, a wet dark Sunday in Dunedin in 1965. I don't think you could have found anything more depressing anywhere. The longest day of my life, it seemed to go on forever. We were usually pretty good at entertaining ourselves, but Dunedin made Aberdeen seem like Las Vegas. Very rarely did everybody get depressed at the same time; there was usually one to support the others. But in Dunedin everybody was totally depressed. No chance of any redemption or laughter. Even the drink didn't get you pissed. On Sunday, there'd be little knocks on the door, "Er, church in ten minutes..." It was just one of those miserable gray days that took me back to my childhood, a day that will never end, the gloom, and not anything on the horizon. Boredom is an illness to me, and I don't suffer from it, but that moment was the lowest ebb. "I think I'll stand on my head, try and recycle the drugs."
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Greg took a little longer. He's a nice guy, he's got eight kids, he's working hard for a living and keeps having babies. This is a religious family that I'm married into; they go to church, they form prayer circles. We have different ideas on religion. I've never found heaven, for example, a particularly interesting place to go. In fact, I take the view that God, in his infinite wisdom, didn't bother to spring for two joints--heaven and hell. They're the same place, but heaven is when you get everything you want and you meet Mummy and Daddy and your best friends and you all have a hug and a kiss and play your harps. Hell is the same place--no fire and brimstone--but they just all pass by and don't see you. There's nothing, no recognition. You're waving, "It's me, your father," but you're invisible. You're on a cloud, you've got your harp, but you can't play with nobody because they don't see you. That's hell.
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"I think I'll stand on my head, try and recycle the drugs."


That's hilarious!