The University of Liverpool’s Precinct newsletter wrote of Adrian Henri that: ‘For the City of Liverpool and its people he is a powerful symbol of its artistic diversity and riches and, over the years, he has been a splendid ambassador of much that it represents.’ All that and more is true but, more importantly, he was also a lovely man. His death has been a reminder, as deaths so often are, that we should treasure those we love more than, perhaps, we do. We should ’phone, e-mail, visit. Adrian was with my wife, Sheila, and I when the first Americans walked on the moon. He was performing, with his band, the Liverpool Scene, at the most frightening concert I have ever attended, a CND benefit in East London in the late 1960s, fearlessly inviting an extremely hostile audience to dance something called the woo-woo as they pelted the stage with bottles, stones and mud. Sheila and I were excited to learn that Adrian was to sit with us at a recent degree congregation but sadly he was too ill to attend. He died the following day. As I said, he was a lovely man.