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Needed to take a break from indignation (aka absolutelyfuckingfurious) mode.  Listened to the Sting Radio show from 18 March, with its playlist selected to celebrate Connor Sparrowhawk’s life, and explanations from Connor’s mother about why particular tracks were significant to and for him.  I hope she won’t mind me repeating a couple of the stories here.  I would never want to be taking Connor’s stories over and remaking them in a way that distorts the reality of him; far too much of that has gone on already.  These ones give such a wonderfully powerful impression of Connor and his legendary personality, that I feel they bear much repetition and deserve the widest possible audience.  So no-one forgets just how awesome a dude LB was and still is.

Naturally, one of the highlights of the show was The Divine Comedy’s ‘National Express’, accompanied by a description of the ConnorCo bus company, the conception of which had been a lifetime’s work for Connor, and whose achievement remained his lifelong (vocational) aspiration.  By the sounds of it, Connor wasn’t a man to dream small, nor to skimp on the proper finishing of important matters; not only had he got a name for his bus company, but he had the fine details of its routes and timetables, and the staff scheduling to cover them, all worked out.

Connor’s high ambitions weren’t limited to the earning-a-living side of things, either.  His standards for his personal life were equally exacting.  He wanted a girlfriend, a pretty girl with brown eyes.  For a while, he had a bit of a crush on  the model Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, and carried a black-and-white snap of her around with him.

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But then he saw a colour photo of her, realised she had blue eyes, and promptly threw her picture away.  Sorry, Rosie, gorgeous as you are, you just weren’t quite good enough for Connor…

He fell in love with a girl he saw on a cross-Channel ferry and although he never met her again, he always, says his mother, carried her in his heart.  For LB, for his belle-idéale aux yeux marrons, for hopes and dreams and love and directness and the joys of living that pounced from unexpected directions, a song that wasn’t on the Sting Radio playlist.

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