I done an ad for Ronnie Scott’s jazz club in 1964 in the back of Town magazine, and Ronnie gave me free entry for life. Johny Rotten’s mum was a waitress there when I used to go. One day she served me a half pint of bitter with a cheese sandwich. I didn’t tip her enough and she rebuffed my iddle chatter with a,”f’you.” threw the beer in my face as she lunged forward and wrestled me to the ground, rolling down the risers onto the stage as Sony Rollins was in full belt. Kicked myself free to a rolling trill from the laughing Rollins and dashed for the exit in my torn Harris Tweed. Johny was born a bit later. (Not all exactly true, but some is.)

OK, in fact that’s certified cowdung, While it is true I did the ad and had free entry through most of the sixties to Ronnie Scott’s, and Johny’s (or was it Sid’s?) mum worked at Ronnie Scott’s during that time, I had nout to do with either’s birth since they were both conceived in the fifties I am reliably informed. Live and learn. And no, I never had a dust-up with her iver, though ’tis true I didn’t tip her enough..

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