Times Were So Tough, But Not as Tough as They Are Now

The cancer that attacked your lung last year, then moved to your brain, has finally taken you. We'd been given notice that the end might be near, but nevertheless we're reeling. The one comforting aspect in all this is that you were at home with your amazing wife and daughter at the end, not locked down and out of reach in hospital.

Inevitably, since the news came through, I've been poring over photos, reigniting memories of when the five of us really were as thick as thieves - the fun, laughter, jaunts, music and, it has to be said, substantial quantities of alcohol. One day I'd like to be able write more about you and our exploits, but right now the words won't come.

We had some bustin' times though didn't we?

The Jam - Thick as Thieves

Old Friends

Diana Collier

On Tuesday evening I met up with W & P, a couple of friends who I first met in 1980, when we became part of a very tight little bunch centred around the Ipswich record shop where I worked. We all hung out, drank and went to gigs together for a few years, before inevitably, one by one, drifting off to follow our individual paths through life in various separate locations around the country.

Fast forward to 2004, when one day in the Norwich coffee shop I managed, I literally bumped into W, one of those long lost friends. We hadn't clapped eyes on each other in half a lifetime and had completely lost touch by the late 1980s. Last I heard he had been living in the East End of London, but unbeknown to me he and his partner had recently relocated to the very same Norfolk city as I myself had done couple of years earlier. Turns out the he was also still in contact with P, another of the old record shop gang and she too was moving to Norwich as soon as logistics would allow. The coincidences piled up.

In the years since that unexpected reunion, the three of us (and W's lovely partner) have been to a few gigs together and met up for the odd drink, but until Tuesday evening hadn't all sat down around a table for a meal and lengthy chinwag. It was an immense amount of fun. They are all in their mid-50s, I'm fast hurtling towards 60 and during our years of separation (and indeed in the years that we've been back in contact) we've each suffered loss, ill health and had to deal with all the other usual age-related stuff, but, miraculously, when all is said and done we appear to basically be the same people who painted the town red together 40 years ago. Subjects covered over dinner included an appreciation of hot water bottles, the joys of a seated gig and the digestive benefits of soaking rolled oats overnight. Maybe we have changed, just a little.

This is 'Friends' from 'Ode to Riddley Walker', the really lovely new LP from former Owl Service member Diana Collier. Check out the whole album here.

Heart Emoji

You may remember my somewhat frantic post back in August, concerning a mate who, on feeling a little under the weather, visited his doctor and was immediately rushed into to hospital, placed in a medically induced coma and had undergone major open heart surgery - all within the space of about 48 hours. We sat on tenterhooks for days, waiting for any updates from his wife. Slowly, miraculously, he recovered enough to be allowed home to convalesce, where I visited him towards the end of November. He was weak, tired and hoarse from the tubes he'd had down his throat for some weeks, but otherwise....like I say, the only word that comes to mind is miraculous. I felt like hugging him and simultaneously hugging the whole of the NHS.

Frail as he was, his sense of humour was completely intact and he had us all laughing out loud as he recalled being brought out of the coma soon after his surgery. He groggily found himself in bed in a virtually silent and completely white room, surrounded by a group of people dressed from head to toe in white. Confused, disorientated and in considerable pain, he managed to attract the attention of one of them and whispered, quite genuinely, 'Am I dead?' 'No dear,' said the nurse, '...you're in Basildon'.

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Richard Dawson's '2020' is a phenomenal stream of consciousness, state of the nation address - one of the truly great albums of 2019.

My Words Just Fail

There's been a lot of stuff going on lately, some happy stuff, some sad stuff and I'll get back to all that in due course with any luck. Right at this moment though, at the very moment I'm typing these words on Wednesday morning, in a hospital somewhere in Essex, one of the few close friends I have is on an operating table undergoing open heart surgery following a sudden illness and a period in a medically induced coma. The rest of us are left reeling at this sudden and terrifying turn of events and send out all our love to his wife and family. All we can do is sit and wait for news.

Inevitably, I find myself sifting through memories of our 40 year friendship in search of any excuse to smile and my mind comes to rest on my 23rd birthday party, a surprise bash thrown for me by the gang. It was a long and glorious evening, one of the oft-recalled highlights being my mate's uncharacteristic 6 minute wig-out to the 12" mix of The Jam's 'Precious'. As soon as the tune started he stood up from the table where we were all eating a meal and spontaneously went for it, big style - totally on his own. Shapes were thrown and the rug was cut - he was a veritable one man Pan's People. At the song's conclusion he simply pulled his chair in and plonked himself back down at the table, leaving us all in a state of slack-jawed hysterics. It's one of those 'you had to be there' memories that still gets pulled out from time to time, on the all-too-rare occasions a few of the old gang find ourselves in the same room. I look forward to chuckling about it again with him soon.

The Jam - Precious (12")

The Revolution Starts at Closing Time

After visiting both of my Aunts in London for a couple of days, I spent Saturday evening in deepest Essex with two of my oldest friends. There was a time when we would spend two or three nights a week putting the world to rights and arguing about music over a succession of warm beers in the corner of a smoky pub, steadily growing less coherent as the hours wore on. But that was 35 years ago. These days, it's a logistical nightmare to get the three of us together, in spite of the fact that we live less than 70 miles apart. In fact Saturday was the first time we've all been in the same room for over 18 months. Though the alcohol didn't flow in quite the way it used to - one of my pals was driving and I had a bit of a dicky tummy - it was a joy to catch-up. We put the world to rights and argued about music just like the old days, but most of all we laughed - a lot.

In the halcyon days of the early 1980's, this was our anthem.

Serious Drinking - The Revolution Starts at Closing Time

Get Together

Every four to six weeks, Mrs S and I get together with two other couples, old friends from my record shop days, to eat lunch, drink wine and catch up with each other's lives. We take turns to host what has come to be known as, 'The Tummy Club', and yesterday it was our turn. After licking our plates clean, we headed out into the late afternoon sunshine to walk off our hearty meal, returning an hour later to enjoy a slice (or two) of Mrs S's outstanding homemade cheesecake, in front of a roaring fire.

The Tummy Club reconvenes in the middle of March. Can't wait.

Here's the great Sid Griffin with a bluegrass interpretation of a much recorded Chet Powers song, taken from his fine 2014 LP, 'The Trick Is to Breathe'.