He always got 'satisfaction' where he could find it

That Keith Richards! That lovable rascal who flies in the face of every advocate of clean-living and piety, who looks like he died decades ago (and should have, considering he has likely ingested every unhealthy substance known to humanity), keeps on going like the Eveready Bunny, and goes laughing all the way.

Old ‘Keef’, the living Dorian Grey, except his excesses are etched on his marvellous face rather than on a painting in the attic, remains a mass of contradictions, always, but tempers it all by being ‘the’ musician in the best damn rock-and-roll band ever. This guy was so excessive in his really heavy drugging days that he actually would go ‘on the nod’ while on stage, and still, somehow, subliminally turn out guitar riffs that lesser pluckers could only dream of.

Of course, you’ve all heard of the latest addition to the Keith legend of excess – last year’s was falling out of a coconut tree -- and that was his “confession” that he once mixed his father’s cremated ashes with his coke stash and did a few lines. That’s sort of an ultimate transubstantiation if you want to look at it metaphorically, I suppose. But, since he obviously succeeded in grossing out even some of his most stalwart fans, he has since backtracked on the matter and suggested he was misinterpreted. This was combined with the fact that Richards Senior passed away in 2002, and Keith asserts he hasn’t touched the white powder (or powder of any stripe) in years. So, was Keith just having us on? That would certainly be like him.

Despite a visage that appears like it has lived three lifetimes (and probably has), Keith has a waggish sense-of-humor that has never really known any bounds. He is, his excesses not withstanding, one of those utterly lovable rogues that a lot of guys would like to be, but know that their health would not withstand such onslaughts. He’s cut in the mould of a Jack Nicholson, a Bob Mitchum, a Humphrey Bogart and a John Huston, but probably, unlike many of the latter, what he seems to be is pretty much who he is.

No sense of decorum, and certainly not possessed of a pretty face (he even cuts his own hair, they say), Keith is equally possessed of a massive musical talent (there would have been no Stones without him, despite how much Mr. Jagger might want to protest that point), a steely intelligence (which shines through no matter how bombed he might seem in an interview, and a vibrant sense of joy, that must seem confusing to advocates of clean-living and excessive spirituality.

He’s also married to a fine woman, whom he loves deeply. And the Missus is a classy and patrician lady who loves him dearly. She is also a devout Christian, and his daughters, who are also Christian and attended convent schools, also revel in everything about dear old Dad.

And, you don’t seem them cutting up or dropping their knickers in public or using massive amounts of drugs and booze. Keith has actually suggested that he provides them with a (still) living model of how you don’t want to live your life. The message hit home.

So, here’s to you, ‘Keef’, and I don’t care if you snorted your Dad. That’s between you and him.