Little Richard, the screaming, preening, scene-stealing wild man of early rock 'n' roll with hits like "Tutti Frutti" and "Long Tall Sally," died Saturday at 87, Dick Alen, his former agent, confirmed to CNN.
Alen said Little Richard died in Nashville with his brother and son by his side, and the cause of death is related to bone cancer.
He called the star "one of the legends, the originators" and said Little Richard had "been ill for a good while."
He was a rocker like no other
The pioneer would have stood out in any era. But in the 1950s, when Little Richard came to prominence, he was like no other: a flamboyant, makeup-wearing, piano-playing black man who personified the "devil's music" to establishment guardians.
Elvis Presley was one thing, but for all his pelvic thrusts and slicked-back, juvenile-delinquent hair, he was at heart a polite Southern boy who loved his daddy. Little Richard, though ... well, he may have come from a big Southern family himself, but he represented something else.
"Richard opened the door. He brought the races together," said arranger H.B. Barnum in Charles White's 1984 biography "The Life and Times of Little Richard."
"When I first went on the road, there were many segregated audiences. With Richard, although they still had the audiences segregated in the building, they were there TOGETHER. And most times before the end of the night, they would all be mixed together."
Rolling Stones frontman Mick Jagger, no onstage slouch, was an admirer as well.
"There's no single phrase to describe his hold on the audience. I couldn't believe the power of Little Richard on stage. He was amazing," Jagger said, according to White's book.
Little Richard knew his power. "They saw me as something like a deliverer, a way out," he once said. "My means of expression, my music, was a way in which a lot of people wished they could express themselves and couldn't."
He also made no bones about his status. LIttle Richard bristled when he was overlooked in favor of other early rock figures, telling SFGate.com in 2003, "I created rock 'n' roll! I'm the innovator! I'm the emancipator! I'm the architect! I am the originator! I'm the one that started it!"
He had made those boasts 15 years earlier, going off script while giving out the best new artist award at the 1988 Grammys.
Five years later the Grammys finally recognized him with a Lifetime Achievement Award.
'Rocking and rolling' in its original form
It's hard to argue with Little Richard's stance. "Rock 'n' roll" was originally a euphemism for sex, and in his energy, his falsetto "woohs!" and pounding piano, Little Richard personified the life force.
A-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-wop-bam-boom, OK?
His songs were about many things -- ripping it up, ready teddies, girls who couldn't help it -- but above all, they were about "rocking and rolling" in its original, unexpurgated form.
"Long Tall Sally, she's built for speed / She got everything that Uncle John need," he belted in "Long Tall Sally," a song rife with such obvious innuendo there was barely a need to read between the lines.
"Good golly, Miss Molly / Sure like to ball," went "Good Golly, Miss Molly," leaving even less to the imagination.
"Spinnin', spinnin', spinnin', spinnin' like a spinnin' top / Crazy little partner, you ought to see us reel and rock," he sang in "Jenny, Jenny."
The songs -- thanks to Little Richard's raucous performances -- created fearsome visions of teenage abandon in the minds of parents and censors.
"With Little Richard, the rock 'n' roll audience got the aggressive extrovert to enact their wilder fantasies, and his stage performances set precedents for anyone who followed him," Charlie Gillett wrote in his classic, "The Sound of the City."
Sometimes that wildness kept Little Richard one step removed from the mainstream: "Tutti Frutti," his breakthrough hit, was originally supposed...

Happy Mothers Day.  The most extraordinary Mothers Day.  If your Mum is in your bubble, then what a lucky Mum.
But you know, I get the feeling that bubbles will count for nothing today after the country’s performance yesterday.
I knew something was up from the first thing in the morning.  Popping out to the letterbox to get the paper around 8am, I stopped In my tracks.  Something was different.  I couldn’t see anything.  But then I twigged.  For the first time in 2 months, I heard the low rumble of distant traffic.
People were on the move.
Two hours later as we took the dog for a walk to the beach we saw where everyone had gone.  To our suburb.  The roads were lined with parked cars.  Cafes had queues of 10 or more.  The beach was packed and bubbles were being popped all over the place
I saw some friends talking to some fella.  They introduced me and the bloke stepped forward with his hand outstretched.  I stared at the hand and then back at him in shock and he twigged.
From that moment on as I walked the beach, I could see handshakes all over the place It was like little alarm bells firing all around me.  I started thinking that all these people might as well go up and spit in each other’s mouths and get it all over and done with.
Later in the day, other friends admitted that they had met a mate on the road who then came back to their place for some soup. Then the TV news confirmed that it had been happening all over the country wherever it was a nice day.
We snapped yesterday.  I think we saw the two New Zealand’s of the future.  One will continue social distancing and washing their hands.  The other can’t wait to hug, hongi and handshake.
Which goes to tomorrow’s decision. The expectation and enthusiasm built to such a degree yesterday that our leaders will almost certainly proclaim Level 2 tomorrow.  To not do so would be to incite mass civil disobedience. 
Ashley and Siouxsie will argue it’s a bad idea but the Prime Minister will use it to reassert her sway over the country and demonstrate her independence from the Director-General of Public Health. It’ll be her little Mother Day present to us all.  A day late.
And so we are coming to the end days of the most extraordinary battle of our generation.  And it was an extraordinary battle because the call to action was to enact inaction.  We have a big threat to fight so we want you to do nothing.  Nothing at all.  Which is what made it at times enjoyable.
There’s so much I will miss about the lockdown.  Particularly the early days when the weather was still warm and before the virus masters banned swimming. The slow mornings with a coffee and the paper in bed.  I mean, what’s the hurry?
The slow-cooked dinners because, again, what’s the hurry. Cheap slabs of meat slowly melting for hours in a warm oven. The house smelling of herbs and yumminess to come. 
The ghost buses. I never saw a single passenger in a single one.  There were two types of drivers.  The tourists slowly poodling along their route taking in the sights being out and about.  Then there were the Walter Mittys who drove the bus like Lewis Hamilton drives his Mercedes.  Who knows what race they were winning in their mind.
The bike rides and the random rambles around my home suburb discovering nooks and crannies I never knew were there.  The other day I discovered a little cove.  It’s name was, wait for it, Secret Cove.
For the first time in three years, my entire family lived together under one roof. Happily. With little intrapersonal tension.  We were angry at the world but not at each other.
Our upstairs neighbour took our photo yesterday as a memento of the crazy two months of 2020. She told us how amazed she was that she never heard one fight, one disagreement.  Unlike the family over the fence who have a barney every second day.
Lockdown with Helen, Jack, Ben and Saffi was lovely.  But I am glad to be seeing the end...

Happy Mothers Day.  The most extraordinary Mothers Day.  If your Mum is in your bubble, then what a lucky Mum.
But you know, I get the feeling that bubbles will count for nothing today after the country’s performance yesterday.
I knew something was up from the first thing in the morning.  Popping out to the letterbox to get the paper around 8am, I stopped In my tracks.  Something was different.  I couldn’t see anything.  But then I twigged.  For the first time in 2 months, I heard the low rumble of distant traffic.
People were on the move.
Two hours later as we took the dog for a walk to the beach we saw where everyone had gone.  To our suburb.  The roads were lined with parked cars.  Cafes had queues of 10 or more.  The beach was packed and bubbles were being popped all over the place
I saw some friends talking to some fella.  They introduced me and the bloke stepped forward with his hand outstretched.  I stared at the hand and then back at him in shock and he twigged.
From that moment on as I walked the beach, I could see handshakes all over the place It was like little alarm bells firing all around me.  I started thinking that all these people might as well go up and spit in each other’s mouths and get it all over and done with.
Later in the day, other friends admitted that they had met a mate on the road who then came back to their place for some soup. Then the TV news confirmed that it had been happening all over the country wherever it was a nice day.
We snapped yesterday.  I think we saw the two New Zealand’s of the future.  One will continue social distancing and washing their hands.  The other can’t wait to hug, hongi and handshake.
Which goes to tomorrow’s decision. The expectation and enthusiasm built to such a degree yesterday that our leaders will almost certainly proclaim Level 2 tomorrow.  To not do so would be to incite mass civil disobedience. 
Ashley and Siouxsie will argue it’s a bad idea but the Prime Minister will use it to reassert her sway over the country and demonstrate her independence from the Director-General of Public Health. It’ll be her little Mother Day present to us all.  A day late.
And so we are coming to the end days of the most extraordinary battle of our generation.  And it was an extraordinary battle because the call to action was to enact inaction.  We have a big threat to fight so we want you to do nothing.  Nothing at all.  Which is what made it at times enjoyable.
There’s so much I will miss about the lockdown.  Particularly the early days when the weather was still warm and before the virus masters banned swimming. The slow mornings with a coffee and the paper in bed.  I mean, what’s the hurry?
The slow-cooked dinners because, again, what’s the hurry. Cheap slabs of meat slowly melting for hours in a warm oven. The house smelling of herbs and yumminess to come. 
The ghost buses. I never saw a single passenger in a single one.  There were two types of drivers.  The tourists slowly poodling along their route taking in the sights being out and about.  Then there were the Walter Mittys who drove the bus like Lewis Hamilton drives his Mercedes.  Who knows what race they were winning in their mind.
The bike rides and the random rambles around my home suburb discovering nooks and crannies I never knew were there.  The other day I discovered a little cove.  It’s name was, wait for it, Secret Cove.
For the first time in three years, my entire family lived together under one roof. Happily. With little intrapersonal tension.  We were angry at the world but not at each other.
Our upstairs neighbour took our photo yesterday as a memento of the crazy two months of 2020. She told us how amazed she was that she never heard one fight, one disagreement.  Unlike the family over the fence who have a barney every second day.
Lockdown with Helen, Jack, Ben and Saffi was lovely.  But I am glad to be seeing the end...

D-Day on alert level 2 is looming and the number of new cases are flat-lining, but academics are cautioning that people without symptoms could still be spreading Covid-19 in the community.
And as Cabinet prepares to decide on moving alert levels tomorrow, there remains a lack of consensus over mask-wearing and contact-tracing capacity needed for level 2, when restrictions on movement will be far looser.
Good weather at the weekend had Aucklanders flocking to Tamaki Drive and surfers crowded Lyall Bay in Wellington - prompting concerns about the public's willingness for physical distancing, even while still at level 3.
But barring a spike in numbers today and tomorrow, a move to level 2 this week looks increasingly likely as New Zealand is still on course on its path to eliminate Covid-19.
The New Zealand situation - we have now just 103 cases - contrasts with those in the US and UK. The number of global cases is set to hit 4 million today, and there have been 276,000 deaths.
In the UK, there have been 31,500 deaths, with lockdown continuing, and over-60s warned they might not be able to travel overseas for a year.
Meanwhile, there were only two new cases of Covid-19 yesterday, both linked to the St Margaret's Hospital and Rest Home in Auckland.
One was a Waitematā DHB nurse who had been looking after St Margaret's patients at Waitākere Hospital, and was among the close contacts of other positive cases announced previously.
There are now 1492 confirmed and probable cases, but 92 per cent of people have recovered. Only 103 cases remain active - including only two in hospital.
The number of daily tests in the past three days has also been the highest in New Zealand so far, and is expected to continue to grow as DHBs roll out their updated surveillance testing plans from next week; 3.5 per cent of the population have now been tested.
No recent cases of community transmission have led to any outbreaks.
It has now been three weeks since the number of new daily cases was above single digits, and with today being the 13th day at alert level 3, the latest numbers seem to indicate the lighter level 3 restrictions have not led to any new outbreaks.
But that couldn't be known with any certainty, according to University of Auckland Professor Shaun Hendy, who has been providing the Government with modelling on the prevalence of Covid-19.
"We knew the numbers would start coming down to days where we didn't detect any cases, but that doesn't mean there isn't a possibility of some undetected cases out there," he told the Herald.
"The chains of transmission can persist for some time, and there seem to be a small percentage of people who don't seem to develop symptoms at all and can still be infectious."
Hendy said the long tail of the virus also meant a new outbreak from the level 3 period might still emerge.
For example, an asymptomatic but infectious person could have passed the virus to another person clustered in the queue at BurgerFuel last week, who could have then passed it on further without feeling any symptoms for several days.
"It's extremely hard to find those cases until they go on to infect someone who develops symptoms."
Hendy said the persistently low number of cases was undoubtedly a good sign, but a clearer sign would be a couple of weeks - one incubation period - of no new cases.
"There's not a strong signal telling us to prolong level 3, but if you want to be conservative and have a lower risk of a second wave, you'd stay a bit longer while you ramped up contact-tracing resources."
University of Otago epidemiologist Professor Michael Baker said moving to level 2 was a tough call because a lot depended on how New Zealanders would act.
As well as hand hygiene, staying at home if sick and physical distancing, he said that a "strategic policy" on wearing masks - such as on public transport - and strong contact tracing...

D-Day on alert level 2 is looming and the number of new cases are flat-lining, but academics are cautioning that people without symptoms could still be spreading Covid-19 in the community.
And as Cabinet prepares to decide on moving alert levels tomorrow, there remains a lack of consensus over mask-wearing and contact-tracing capacity needed for level 2, when restrictions on movement will be far looser.
Good weather at the weekend had Aucklanders flocking to Tamaki Drive and surfers crowded Lyall Bay in Wellington - prompting concerns about the public's willingness for physical distancing, even while still at level 3.
But barring a spike in numbers today and tomorrow, a move to level 2 this week looks increasingly likely as New Zealand is still on course on its path to eliminate Covid-19.
The New Zealand situation - we have now just 103 cases - contrasts with those in the US and UK. The number of global cases is set to hit 4 million today, and there have been 276,000 deaths.
In the UK, there have been 31,500 deaths, with lockdown continuing, and over-60s warned they might not be able to travel overseas for a year.
Meanwhile, there were only two new cases of Covid-19 yesterday, both linked to the St Margaret's Hospital and Rest Home in Auckland.
One was a Waitematā DHB nurse who had been looking after St Margaret's patients at Waitākere Hospital, and was among the close contacts of other positive cases announced previously.
There are now 1492 confirmed and probable cases, but 92 per cent of people have recovered. Only 103 cases remain active - including only two in hospital.
The number of daily tests in the past three days has also been the highest in New Zealand so far, and is expected to continue to grow as DHBs roll out their updated surveillance testing plans from next week; 3.5 per cent of the population have now been tested.
No recent cases of community transmission have led to any outbreaks.
It has now been three weeks since the number of new daily cases was above single digits, and with today being the 13th day at alert level 3, the latest numbers seem to indicate the lighter level 3 restrictions have not led to any new outbreaks.
But that couldn't be known with any certainty, according to University of Auckland Professor Shaun Hendy, who has been providing the Government with modelling on the prevalence of Covid-19.
"We knew the numbers would start coming down to days where we didn't detect any cases, but that doesn't mean there isn't a possibility of some undetected cases out there," he told the Herald.
"The chains of transmission can persist for some time, and there seem to be a small percentage of people who don't seem to develop symptoms at all and can still be infectious."
Hendy said the long tail of the virus also meant a new outbreak from the level 3 period might still emerge.
For example, an asymptomatic but infectious person could have passed the virus to another person clustered in the queue at BurgerFuel last week, who could have then passed it on further without feeling any symptoms for several days.
"It's extremely hard to find those cases until they go on to infect someone who develops symptoms."
Hendy said the persistently low number of cases was undoubtedly a good sign, but a clearer sign would be a couple of weeks - one incubation period - of no new cases.
"There's not a strong signal telling us to prolong level 3, but if you want to be conservative and have a lower risk of a second wave, you'd stay a bit longer while you ramped up contact-tracing resources."
University of Otago epidemiologist Professor Michael Baker said moving to level 2 was a tough call because a lot depended on how New Zealanders would act.
As well as hand hygiene, staying at home if sick and physical distancing, he said that a "strategic policy" on wearing masks - such as on public transport - and strong contact tracing...

One of my guests this week has got me thinking. In author Celeste Headlee's new book, she writes about how we need to relearn how to appreciate idleness and leisure and rethink our relationship with work and productivity.
It’s something many of us have an impromptu trial with over the last five weeks.
Lockdown arrived pretty abruptly but, after the initial jolt, the enforced slowdown has been an unexpected joy for me.
We’re a busy family. We’ve got jobs, and kids with school, and an enthusiasm for after-school activities – dance of many descriptions, and football, and swimming and - you get the idea.
It feels like we’ve simply got too much on our plate.
So we’ve often wondered what our family life would be like if we were prepared to endure the kids howls of outrage and say sayonara to a good proportion of our extra-curricular activities.
Now we know.
Spending time together and being vaguely bored is ok – it’s led to a lot of fun and giggles, walks and bike rides, and talking nonsense.
It’s incredible not to have to organise the morning and evening family life like a fully-fledged logistics company.
The slow life suits me - maybe a little too much.
I haven’t felt guilty that we’ve let the day’s flow without much ambition. We’ve done what’s needed to be done – work, school work, a bit of exercise and fresh air.
I haven’t made bread, joined a plank challenge, found a new hobby or learnt to play an instrument. Some days we’ve not got dressed.
And it’s the not feeling guilty that’s made it great.
Normally, like many people I feel like I’m winning when I tick things off a list. We tend to associate fulfilment, success, and satisfaction with achieving something tangible. Idle time is wasted time - right? Busy-ness is almost a competitive sport.
I may not have a list covered in ticks of the things I accomplished during lockdown, but I’ve spent time thinking about how we live a calmer life out the other-side.
I don’t think we’ll manage to cut many of the weekly activities out of the schedule, but we’ll try, and we’ll make sure we enjoy the times in-between – by doing absolutely nothing. Guilt-free.

One of my guests this week has got me thinking. In author Celeste Headlee's new book, she writes about how we need to relearn how to appreciate idleness and leisure and rethink our relationship with work and productivity.
It’s something many of us have an impromptu trial with over the last five weeks.
Lockdown arrived pretty abruptly but, after the initial jolt, the enforced slowdown has been an unexpected joy for me.
We’re a busy family. We’ve got jobs, and kids with school, and an enthusiasm for after-school activities – dance of many descriptions, and football, and swimming and - you get the idea.
It feels like we’ve simply got too much on our plate.
So we’ve often wondered what our family life would be like if we were prepared to endure the kids howls of outrage and say sayonara to a good proportion of our extra-curricular activities.
Now we know.
Spending time together and being vaguely bored is ok – it’s led to a lot of fun and giggles, walks and bike rides, and talking nonsense.
It’s incredible not to have to organise the morning and evening family life like a fully-fledged logistics company.
The slow life suits me - maybe a little too much.
I haven’t felt guilty that we’ve let the day’s flow without much ambition. We’ve done what’s needed to be done – work, school work, a bit of exercise and fresh air.
I haven’t made bread, joined a plank challenge, found a new hobby or learnt to play an instrument. Some days we’ve not got dressed.
And it’s the not feeling guilty that’s made it great.
Normally, like many people I feel like I’m winning when I tick things off a list. We tend to associate fulfilment, success, and satisfaction with achieving something tangible. Idle time is wasted time - right? Busy-ness is almost a competitive sport.
I may not have a list covered in ticks of the things I accomplished during lockdown, but I’ve spent time thinking about how we live a calmer life out the other-side.
I don’t think we’ll manage to cut many of the weekly activities out of the schedule, but we’ll try, and we’ll make sure we enjoy the times in-between – by doing absolutely nothing. Guilt-free.

With fast food chains re-opening this week, causing traffic jams in some areas, Mike van de Elzen shared his own take on burgers - and burger sauce
Burger sauce
1. Boil eggs in boiling water for five minutes exactly, then run under cold water until cold. Peel carefully.2. Place eggs, shallot, honey, tomato puree and stock in a food processor. Process to combine. With the motor running, gradually add oil while processing to form an emulsion.3. Remove from food processor and add gherkins. Set aside

With fast food chains re-opening this week, causing traffic jams in some areas, Mike van de Elzen shared his own take on burgers - and burger sauce
Burger sauce
1. Boil eggs in boiling water for five minutes exactly, then run under cold water until cold. Peel carefully.2. Place eggs, shallot, honey, tomato puree and stock in a food processor. Process to combine. With the motor running, gradually add oil while processing to form an emulsion.3. Remove from food processor and add gherkins. Set aside

The fitness industry is one of the many sectors that may be reimagined after the lockdown.
With gyms closed, many have taken to online streaming and lessons to keep people engaged - and fit.
With lockdown restrictions being wound down, will people want to go back to crowded gyms, or will social media and Zoom meetings be the new normal?
Wellbeing expert Erin O'Hara, who has been doing online classes, joined Francesca Rudkin to discuss.
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