Don't you know who I am?

This particular week in January is full of birthdays, friends and family, dates shared and celebrated. Sadly this year it has been a week of losses too. Ursula K Le Guin and Hugh Masakela died this week, both hugely influential in their creative, personal and political lives. They will never be forgotten and generations to come will be inspired by their work and their story. Yesterday, alongside all the Facebook birthday wishes, a host of other posts came up as the news broke of the death of Mark E Smith. I knew his health was failing, but it was still a huge shock. He had looked destroyed for so long that you could kid yourself that he was indestructible. There are some fantastic tributes out there in the public domain. Even features on the Today programme. Who would have thought it back in the seventies? Back in 1983 I had a day job, but I continued to do the door for a couple of Manchester promoters at various clubs, including the Hacienda when it first opened. One night at a venue a couple approached my desk. 'We're on the guest list'. I checked, ' Sorry, no, you're not'. The man drew himself up to full height. 'Don't you know who I am? ' I did, but he wasn't on the guest list. In the months that followed I told the story of my encounter with Mark E Smith, the only person who had ever said this to me in my door keeping days. Such a cliche. As time went by I realised that this arrogance and self confidence was part of his talent, his ability and his influence. And the next time I recognised the woman with him that night was on Nigel Kennedy's episode of This Is Your Life. But that's another story.