I've written some tributes in my time: actors, singers, composers etc. Very often concentrating on the quality and quantity of their work. That's an exercise which can be undertaken quite objectively, even without knowing someone personally.

But when George Melly's death was announced this morning, circa 9.15am, there were two immediate requirements.
250 words in 10 minutes for a first edition page one/turn to page two news story, immediately followed by a 450 word tribute for the second edition (deadine 45-minutes later).
Daily journalism - particularly evening newspaper journalism - requires the utmost speed - something which many other journalists, and certainly magazine and book authors, just do not have to contend with.
However, although there is the need to proceed with speed, writing my tribute to George was a heart-felt exercise.
Quite simply, he was a great chap who lived life to the full: intelligent, outrageous, funny, uncompromising: a truly technicolor character.
He belonged to the era before dreadful political correctness clouded each and every action and judgement in life.
How ironic that he expired the week of the ban on smoking in enclosed spaces, which he would never have approved of.
Further, here was a man who had once advertised Benson and Hedges cigarettes (although his favourite smoke was always a cigar).
Yes, he did die primarily of lung cancer (which he refused to have treated), And he was 80. and he did have one hell of a life.
Better that than dumbing down, eating peanuts, sitting cross-legged in a commune, and living to be 99.
As George Bernard Shaw declared: There's no point in trying to live for ever. You just won't succeed.
RIP George, and I'll raise a glass of vino to ya tonight.

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