I just learned of the death of Malcolm McLaren, the legendary former manager of pioneering punk band the Sex Pistols. McLaren died, age 64, in New York City.
I have two enduring memories associated with McLaren and his band.
The most recent:
Standing outside the location of the London shop where the band formed (pictured, snarling in true punk fashion). Then, as now, it was a clothing shop featuring the designs of Vivienne Westwood. The name of the shop has changed, and my visit in January showed no signs of the musical historical significance of the site.
The other memory:
When my wife Jill and I were newly married and living in Dubuque (before moving to Oregon) in the early 90s, she bowled on a team at Creslanes. Every week, I would drive to pick her up after bowling. I would BLAST the Sex Pistols from the car stereo en route to bowling alley.
Now, whenever I drive past Creslanes (en route to the Locust Street Hy-Vee, for example), I can't help but think of that music playing so loudly.