George Harrison, 1987, photographed by Peter Figen
“Though he apologized for being a bit ‘nackered’ from jet lag and a right schedule of meetings, he was extremely open, articulate, and witty, occasionally lapsing into Monty Python impersonations. Although time didn’t permit detailed accounts of each and every guitar he’d ever played, it’s clear that he has vivid memories of virtually every instrument that has passed through his hands. […] Throughout the conversation he was typically self-effacing about his guitar playing, and when John Fogerty dropped in briefly to say hello, George exclaimed, ‘Now, here’s a proper guitarist!’ It is that sort of selfless attitude that makes George Harrison such a special guitar player.” - Dan Forte on George Harrison, Guitar Player, November 1987 [x]
An awesome shot from the happiest day of Ric Flair’s life (the second time). Pictured along with Flair are his son, future WCW United States Champion David Flair (front and center), Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat on the far left, “Rowdy” Roddy Piper on the far right, and Jim Crockett himself, who served as Flair’s best man for the wedding. The bride in this photo is Elizabeth Harrell, the future mother of Reid and Ashley, who now wrestles as Charlotte Flair. Ric was married to Harrell for nearly 23 years before divorcing in 2006.
Usually Alucard never payed attention to pop culture happening around him. A twelve year old Sir Integra had the radio on for background noise. It was not until the words were spoken that he recognized it.
“I know this song,” he said, surprised. “It’s been on at least 3 times a day since it’s been out…….two weeks ago,” she said absently.
“A girl sang it to me once,” he continued, slowly. As if trying to remember something. When the song ended, he left the room.
Walter noticed Alucard would disappear into the cellars for hours if he was not needed. At first, he thought nothing of it. Alucard kept his coffin in the old dungeon. But on the other hand, Alucard normally spent his time in the library. Walter followed him one night. He found Alucard poring over old records, playing them, and reading lyric sheets if they were available. Occasionally he wrote something in a notebook. Sometimes, he could be caught sketching. Finally Walter made himself known.
“What are you doing?” he asked softly, trying not to startle the vampire, though in all honesty he probably already knew Walter was there.
For a moment, Alucard considered lying to him. Considered spinning some tale about an old girlfriend, anything to deter from his own little girl who turned herself into a bat and had demons living in her shadow and sang songs he’d been asleep for. And then sixteen year old Walter flashed before his memory, and he couldn’t do it.
“I’m looking for something,” he said vaguely, returning to that sketch that Walter could not see.
“In those records?” he could just barely see Vlad nod.
“A list, really. When I was a young vampire there was a girl with black curls and rusted eyes who spoke perfect Romanian and wore my ring,” he pulled the silver ring with seven crosses around the band from his pocket, his hand protected by his glove. “She said her great great great great great great great grandfather gave it to her when she was thirteen. To protect her. She nearly died in my care. I healed her, but you know what the blood does to a human. The hallucinations and nightmares. She saw things. But instead of nightmares, she sang. I heard one of her songs last week. I’ve probably found about half of them.”
“But you still have the ring,” Walter said.
“I haven’t given it to her yet,” realization shone in Walter’s eyes. “I don’t think all the songs exist yet.”
“How can you be so sure? You’ve only gone through half of the records.”
“Tracking how the styles change and the words are used helps a lot.”
Walter left him to it. He would see the drawing soon enough, but he assumed it was her. Alucard never spoke of her again. He kept his music to himself.
Seras heard music as she passed through the cellars. No one ever played music down here, least of all Alucard. Unless he was confined there, it was just a place to sleep for him. She sat outside his door just listening for a little bit. There was nothing older than ‘97. With that thought, Seras got an idea. She ran upstairs.
A couple of hours later, she came downstairs again and knocked, loudly. She heard the music stop and it was a few minutes before the door opened and Alucard asked what she wanted.
“I made you this,” she said and handed him a small burned CD. She had also brought a small CD player with her. “And I thought you might need something to play it on too….” he stared at it for what seemed like forever.
“What’s on it?” he finally asked.
“All the songs that you had to change records for. Plus a few new ones that match the same style.” Really, he didn’t know whether to thank her or laugh. She had no idea what any of these songs meant, yet here she was, instead of asking him to turn it down, making playing them easier for him. Finally, he did end up thanking her and she scurried off where ever she was going to for the night. For her sake, at least, since she put all that work into it, he played the CD.
The very next song after all the ones he knew, he did not expect to know. That was the last one. It was any time now.