Buddy Holly Quotes

Ask ten different scientists about the environment, population control, genetics and you'll get ten different answers, but there's one thing every scientist on the planet agrees on. Whether it happens in a hundred years or a thousand years or a million years, eventually our Sun will grow cold and go out. When that happens, it won't just take us. It'll take Marilyn Monroe and Lao-Tzu, Einstein, Morobuto, Buddy Holly, Aristophanes .. and all of this .. all of this was for nothing unless we go to the stars.

Paul McCartney has said, “I emulated Buddy Holly, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis. We all did.

During the Cold War of the 1950s, American spies were issued eyeglasses with thick, clunky frames. If captured, they were trained to casually chew the curved earpieces, where fatal doses of cyanide were cast inside the plastic. It's these same horn-rimmed suicide glasses, the wrangler says, that inspired the look of Buddy Holly and Elvis Costello. All those young hipsters wearing death on their nose.

Then that would be the will of Fate, or of whoever was in charge. Maybe John. Maybe Elvis. Maybe Sam. Maybe Buddy. Maybe, baby.

Mr Bott sits down and gestures gracefully to the board. "As you are clearly both fascinated by this text, would you like to explain the significance of Laertes in Hamlet?" He looks at Alexa. "Please go first, Miss Roberts." "Well..." Alexa says hesitantly. "He's Ophelia's brother, right?" "I didn't ask for his family tree, Alexa. I want to know his literary significance as a fictional character." Alexa looks uncomfortable. "Well then, his literary significance is in being Ophelia's brother, isn't it? So she has someone to hang out with." "How very kind of Shakespeare to give fictional Ophelia a fictional playmate so that she doesn't get fictionally bored. Your analytical skills astound me, Alexa. Perhaps I should send you to Set Seven with Mrs White and you can spend the rest of the lesson studying Thomas the Tank Engine. I believe he has lots of buddies too.

My last conscious thought was that although I lay in squalor, my mouth was minty fresh.

And you promised me way more than that, buddy. I guess it’s my turn to start breaking some promises.

When I was little, I didn’t understand that you could change a few sounds in a name or a phrase and have it mean something entirely different. When I told teachers my name was Benna and they said, “Donna who?” I would say, “Donna Gilbert.” I thought close was good enough, that sloppiness was generally built into the language. I thought Bing Crosby and Bill Crosby were the same person. That Buddy Holly and Billie Holiday were the same person. That Leon Trotsky and Leo Tolstoy were the same person. It was a shock for me quite late in life to discover that Jean Cocteau and Jacques Cousteau were not even related. Meaning, if it existed at all, was unstable and could not survive the slightest reshuffling of letters. One gust of wind and Santa became Satan. A slip of the pen and pears turned into pearls. A little interior decorating and the world became her twold, an ungrammatical and unkind assessment of an aging aunt in a singles bar. Add a d to poor, you got droop. It was that way in biology, too. Add a chromosome, get a criminal. Subtract one, get an idiot or a chipmunk. That was the way with things.

The Dead Rock Star's Bar by Stewart Stafford I went for a drink in The Dead Rock Star's Bar, Phil Lynott was drinking whiskey in the jar, Jimi Hendrix was rocking the place, Elvis Presley was stuffing his face, Sid Vicious was grumpy and gruff, Freddie Mercury strutted his stuff, Marvin Gaye had plenty of soul, Lennon and Cobain compared bullet holes, Jim Morrison declared he was The Lizard King Buddy Holly sported an aeroplane wing, Such an array of talent leaves one's mouth agape, But they're all still alive on CD and tape, Wherever you live, you don't have to travel far, To have a damn good time at The Dead Rock Star's Bar. © Stewart Stafford, 1996. All rights reserved.

(It’s a doozy! I could listen to it all day long.) Nikki Lane—“Gone, Gone, Gone,” “Coming Home to You” Patterson Hood—“Belvedere,” “Back of a Bible” Ryan Bingham—“Guess Who’s Knocking” American Aquarium—“Casualties” Devil Doll—“The Things You Make Me Do” American Aquarium—“I’m Not Going to the Bar” Hank Williams Jr.—“Family Tradition” David Allan Coe—“Mama Tried” John Paul Keith—“She’ll Dance to Anything” Carl Perkins—“Honey, Don’t” Scott H. Biram—“Lost Case of Being Found” The Cramps—“The Way I Walk” The Reverend Horton Heat—“Jimbo Song” Justin Townes Earle—“Baby’s Got a Bad Idea” Old Crow Medicine Show—“Wagon Wheel,” “Hard to Love” Dirty River Boys—“My Son” JD McPherson—“Wolf Teeth” Empress of Fur—“Mad Mad Bad Bad Mama” Dwight Yoakam—“Little Sister” The Meteors—“Psycho for Your Love” Hayes Carll—“Love Don’t Let Me Down” HorrorPops—“Dotted with Hearts” Buddy Holly—“Because I Love You” Chris Isaak—“Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing” Jason Isbell—“The Devil Is My Running Mate” Lindi Ortega—“When All the Stars Align” Three Bad Jacks—“Scars” Kasey Anderson and the Honkies—“My Blues, My Love

The pièce de résistance, put into the can on the very first day, owed its inspiration to Little Richard, who would whip audiences to further frenzy between numbers by self-congratulatory cries of “Well...all right!” Buddy turned the phrase into a gentle love song infused with all his special quality of patience and optimism and his developing ability to make personal sentiments into universal ones. “Well, All Right” is a riposte to all the criticism and condescension that teenagers faced from their elders in the rock 'n' roll fifties—and have in every decade since. The setting is as adventurously simple as that of “Everyday”: Buddy plays flamenco-accented acoustic guitar, with only a plashing cymbal for company. The mood is not one of youthful anger and defiance but of maturity before its time: calm, stoical, steadfast in affirming its “dreams and wishes.” The intimacy in the voice could equally be that of lover or elder brother. Girl or boy, you can imagine you and he are alone together, gazing into the fire and imagining a bright future when the young will “live and love with all our might,” which could almost be a prophecy of the sixties' hippie culture.

I guess I had, too, this melancholy, and somehow Buddy Holly dying at least gave me a tangible reason for this feeling. Maybe it’s just all the sadness I see in the people around me, just below the surface I mean, and the fact that there’s nothing I can do about it. Life is like that sometimes.

It’s the irony or maybe the tragedy of being a fan that it’s not enough to let the music enter you like a drug or define and shape the world for you. You also want to somehow touch it and have it affirm you in more direct ways, whether you’re playing a riff like Chuck Berry or singing like Buddy Holly or buying Keith Richards’s guitar—or actually meeting your idols. In

He felt a smile cross his face. He was pretty sure it wasn’t reassuring. He pulled on his latex gloves. “So, do you want to start with the blood work or the prostate exam?” Alexei went a little pale. “I am being sure I do not know what this prostate is. Well, I have suspicion.” Now Caleb grinned widely and held up a tube of lube. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. It’s all a part of the service. You need a prostate check every year.” “But I promise not to use prostate in making the love with Holly. I will keep her far away from prostate.” Alexei backed up, his eyes going to the lube. Nope. He wasn’t getting out of this so easily. “Sorry, buddy. It’s this or a full colonoscopy. Welcome to America. Now please bend over.

I am neither an accountant nor a lawyer, and I am not sure that I would be able to make sense of all this even if I were. After talking with each of the Crickets, with Petty, with the Holleys and Maria Elena and others who were close to the situation, it is my own judgement that Holly and the Crickets never received much of what was rightfully theirs--although they may well have been paid all that was legally due to them. In the entertainment industry, even more than in other businesses, what is fair and what is legal are often worlds apart. This is just my opinion and others may conclude differently.

Recuerda: hasta los Beatles empezaron como una banda de covers. Paul McCartney ha dicho: “Yo emulaba a Buddy Holly, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis. Todos lo hacíamos.” McCartney y John Lennon se convirtieron en uno de los equipos compositores más importantes de la historia pero, como recuerda McCartney, sólo empezaron a escribir sus canciones “como una manera de evitar que otras bandas tocaran el set que tenían planeado”.

Then get on your white horse there buddy and figure out how to be her knight in shining fucking armor.

Ray comes out a few seconds later, wiping his hands on a small towel. He’s in a white shirt and tan pants. In good shape. He’s sandy haired and wearing Buddy Holly glasses. Ray could be a computer programmer or an ad writer. Whatever he does for a living, he doesn’t look like any brujo I’ve ever seen. He puts out his hand as he comes in. “Hi. I’m Ray,” he says. We shake. “I’m Stark.” He walks back to stand by Carlos.

Their repertoire of covers was rich and, depending on audience reaction, they would plunder material by Buddy Holly, James Brown, The Everly Brothers, Gene Vincent, Little Richard, Ricky Nelson, Shirley Bassey, Bill Haley, The Spencer Davis Group and The Yardbirds.

Stay in suit, stay aware, keep your buddy close and your Stamp closer.