Even though Sir Mick Jagger is one of the most well-known rock stars in the world and has amassed enormous money, he has recently seemed to imply that he will not be transferring his enormous wealth to his offspring.
Since the Rolling Stones’ 1962 London formation, the 80-year-old leader has been a part of the music industry.
The group has since put out 122 singles, 31 studio albums, and 77 music videos. After all of this, the group has sold more than 200 million records worldwide and has been named by Billboard as the second-greatest musician of all time (after The Beatles).
They’ve been together for an incredible 61 years, making them one of the longest-running musical ensembles ever!
Thus, it should come as no surprise that the band members have made a lot of money. Jagger too.
But as he recently stated in an interview with the Wall Street Journal, that doesn’t imply his kids will automatically become wealthy.
The father-of-eight informed the publication that, contrary to recent trends among well-known musicians, he currently has no plans to sell the band’s post-1971 catalog. This procedure essentially involves a musician selling the copyright to song recordings, or both, depending on the terms of the agreement.
Performers that have sold the rights to their music, such as Bob Dylan and Katy Perry, have made multimillion dollar deals. Bob Dylan made a whopping $300 million by selling Universal Music his whole discography, and it has been alleged that Dolly Parton wants to follow suit.
In an interview with the Wall Street Journal, Jagger stated that he would not be giving his children any money from The Rolling Stones’ music catalog sale. “The kids can live comfortably without $500 million. Come on, he urged.
However, if a deal is struck, Jagger would rather see the funds donated to a worthy cause. You might make a difference in the world, he said.
The singer of “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” is married to five different women and has eight children total, ages six to fifty-two. Born in 1970 to Jagger and his then-partner Marsha Hunt, the oldest is 52-year-old Karis.
During Jagger’s relationship with Bianca Jagger, to whom he was married from 1971 until 1978, another daughter, 51-year-old Jade, was born.
Actress Jerry Hall, who dated Jagger from 1977 to 1999, was the girlfriend of the musician. Together, the two had four children: Elizabeth, 39, and Georgia May, 31, as well as James, 38, and Gabriel, 25.
Lucas, 24, is Jagger’s eighth child and was born during his relationship with model Luciana Gimenez Morad. Then, in 2016, Jagger’s current partner Melanie Hamrick, a former ballerina and choreographer, gave birth to Deveraux, his youngest child, who is six years old.
Oh my god. That’s a sizable family, so there are plenty of individuals to divide an enormous fortune among!
She inquired, “What’s the price for the eggs?” The elderly seller responded, “0.25 cents per egg
The old egg seller, his eyes weary and hands trembIing, continued to sell his eggs at a loss. Each day, he watched the sun rise over the same cracked pavement, hoping for a miracle. But the world was indifferent. His small shop, once bustling with life, now echoed emptiness.
The townspeople hurried past him, their footsteps muffled by their own worries. They no longer stopped to chat or inquire about the weather. The old man’s heart sank as he counted the remaining eggs in his baskets. Six left. Just six. The same number that the woman had purchased weeks ago.
He remembered her vividly—the woman with the determined eyes and the crisp dollar bill. She had bargained with him, driving a hard bargain for those six eggs. “$1.25 or I will leave,” she had said, her voice firm. He had agreed, even though it was less than his asking price. Desperation had cIouded his judgment.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The old seller kept his promise, selling those six eggs for $1.25 each time. He watched the seasons change—the leaves turning from green to gold, then falling to the ground like forgotten dreams. His fingers traced the grooves on the wooden crate, worn smooth by years of use.
One bitter morning, he woke to find frost cIinging to the windowpane. The chill seeped through the cracks, settling in his bones. He brewed a weak cup of tea, the steam rising like memories. As he sat on the same wooden crate, he realized that he could no longer afford to keep his small shop open.
The townspeople had moved on, their lives intertwined with busier streets and brighter lights. The old man packed up his remaining eggs, their fragile shells cradled in his weathered hands. He whispered a silent farewell to the empty shop, its walls bearing witness to countless stories—the laughter of children, the haggling of customers, and the quiet moments when he had counted his blessings.
Outside, the world was gray—a canvas waiting for a final stroke. He walked the familiar path, the weight of those six eggs heavier than ever. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting long shadows on the pavement. He reached the edge of town, where the road met the horizon.
And there, under the vast expanse of sky, he made his decision. With tears in his eyes, he gently placed the eggs on the ground. One by one, he cracked them open, releasing their golden yoIks. The wind carried their essence away, a bittersweet offering to the universe.
The old egg seller stood there, his heart as fragile as the shells he had broken. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. And in that quiet moment, he whispered a prayer—for the woman who had bargained with him, for the townspeople who had forgotten, and for himself.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he turned away from the empty road. His footsteps faded, leaving behind a trail of memories. And somewhere, in the vastness of the universe, six golden yolks danced—a silent requiem for a forgotten dream.
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