The first Rolling Stones album I ever owned was Between the Buttons, and it’s a fantastic and often forgotten disc, full of fantastic songs. The Stones were feeling somewhat arty at this time, Brian was still alive, but what stands out today is how deftly the Stones appropriated all the artsy crap everyone else was throwing off and made it their own.

My Uncle Henry, my father’s brother, died last week and I went to the memorial today, and was very glad to see my cousins for the first time in ages. I was also reminded of my uncle’s gentle personality. What I remember best is his funny smirk. He was funny without saying anything. But when he said something he was funny, too.

I was also reminded that my aunt and uncle brought me Between the Buttons for my 12th or 13th birthday, and at that moment I was pretty sure they had no idea how much that meant to me. All of a sudden I had the Stones in my house, and it was good.

I didn’t talk about this today, since it seemed more about me than he. I did delight in talking to my cousins. And my aunt. About other stuff.

And thanks for this:

Love, Peter