I often wonder if the boy that I met still exists
FIVE years ago, George almost died of pneumonia in a Vienna hospital. His biographer, Tony Parsons, saw his illness as a symbol of his decline. This is an edited version of a piece he wrote back then. IT is almost 30 years since I became friends with a teenager called George Michael. In the half-lifetime that has passed since, I have often wondered if that boy still exists.
George changed, of course. It would be strange if someone did not change in so many years.
But the changes George went through cannot be explained away just by the passage of time.
Somehow, he changed from a smiley, funny, humorous lad to a scowling, car-crashing, dope-smoking old geezer.
He went from thin to fat. From a lover of music to a lover of cannabis. From smart to stupid. From apparently straight to overtly glad to be gay. From blond to grey. From a responsible driver to crashing his car into his local Snappy Snaps. From a friend to someone I no longer talk to.
What happened? George took too many bad drugs. He puffed cannabis joints as though they were Silk Cut fags. He buried his love of music with a spoiled millionaire’s self-indulgence.
Now George is at a crisis point. I wish him a very speedy recovery.
For years, George was a lovely man – warm and kind and with a Mount Everest of talent. Then we fell out, as celebs and their journalist mates always do in the end.
With the first Wham! compilation coming out 12 years ago, his people begged me to interview him. We spent a happy afternoon at his home while he talked openly about sex, drugs, his friendship with Princess Diana, fame and family.
Nothing was out of bounds. But by the time I got home, George had decided he had been too open. He asked for certain quotes to be cut.
My editor and I readily agreed. He had given us a world exclusive and we wanted him to be happy. But, in the end, his demands for cuts were too much for me, so we fell out.
Now, as he struggles with his health, I remember George not as he became – the spoiled, stoned superstar ploughing his car into a shop.
I remember the way he was – a big-hearted man with a selfdeprecating sense of humour, generous spirit and shining soul.
Get well soon George. Whatever changes time brings, I know you are still the same kid, grinning with bemusement at a world gone mad.