Monday, 6 May 2013
When you get to your mid-fifties you start to think about all sorts of things that, over the years, you may have taken for granted. Good health. The ability to get out of bed, pain-free. The meaning of life. The joy of a good pint. And friends. I have 2 good friends. One is married, one is not. There is a third couple who would be there if I was in trouble but, in terms of history, scrapes, holidays, gigs and laughs, it is 2 close, male friends. Friend B I've known for 22 years. Friend A, for nearly 40. Incredibly, they have only met once, at my second wedding, 13 years ago. Friend B is 9 years older than me. Friend A, the same age as me. In the last 10 days the wheels fell off one of them. I won't go into any detail. It's private. My wife and I have hardly slept, had phone calls, long chats, lots and lots of tears, both with him, and on our own. We simply cannot imagine life without him. So this blog is a warning to all. Take a look at your closest friends, the ones you have laughed with, cried with, poured beer over, avoided the police with, played in bands with, bunked into gigs with, sat outside pubs all day with.....held so close you can feel their heart beat and hear their sobs and tell them you love them. Fuck embarrassment. Fuck British reserve. Tell them you love them. Do it now.