Absent Friends.

I feel in a reflective and somewhat sombre mood this evening having read my Orkney-bound pal's blog. He was the jolly cove who accompanied me last night on what I now believe to have been the 23rd worst evening out of my life.
He was writing about the imminence of his move north and how he will miss those closest to him. I am fortunate enough to be counted in that number but in a manly, back-slapping, see-the-rugby-game? kind of a way and absolutely no girly, gay, kissy-kissy nonsense - that's right out!
He has been going on and on about his move for what seems like years and so it has not been something I have given much thought to but it has now finally dawned on me, having read his words, that he WILL be gone very soon - and it's not as if he's moving to the next town. He's going to islands which, he has told me, are nearer to Norway than to Britain! All I know is it's a bloody long way and so our meet-ups in future will be, to say the least, a little more spaced apart than they have been to date.

Pither and Orkney-bound pal (right) at Dambusters reunion.


Now, that may well be good news for his liver but it is going to be a blow to Pither. Not only is he a good confidant and source of support, he makes me laugh. A lot of the time he doesn't MEAN to make me laugh, but he does, all the same. For instance, he is giving up his career as a sports reporter but not taking a slight diversion into, say, novel writing. No, he's going to become a fucking pig farmer!!! (Shades of Python's chartered accountant who wanted to become a lion tamer.) He is as soft as a soft thing and I have told him repeatedly that he won't have the heart to kill any of his livestock. No, knowing him, he will give them all names and end up surrounded by shedloads of porcine pensioners!
I shall miss not having someone around who was born in Cambridge but insists they are Irish! I shall miss going for late night curries with someone who once fell fast asleep, face down, in a plate of chicken something-or-other. I shall miss having a pal around who has the upper body of Martin Johnson and the legs of Kylie Minogue. I shall miss someone who is so indecisive that he ended up with THREE best men at his wedding (I was one of them). I shall miss a pal who is about as punctual as the Americans were for World War Two. I shall miss having someone who is stuffed to the gunnels with dreams.
I know I shall be jetting up to Wicker Man territory when I can but it is just not the same.
Anyway, it would be better if I sent him to Grantham - at least it would be nearer - but no, he most definitely belongs with the rest of us. It is long distance friendships which can go in his place.