Old Friends

It must be said that I utterly despised going to school. I really loathed the place and most of the people in there. That's not to say I didn't make any friends - in fact I am still in touch with a few and it's surprising how many old classmates have managed to find me on Facebook. In retrospect there were quite a few decent folks there but the ones who I didn't get on with - both pupils and staff - were quite adept at making the place a living Hell. At least I wasn't alone in this and the friends I did make were both a support and a survival strategy.

Lunch times were particularly tiresome. I qualified for free school meals but this was actually just a token which partially covered the cost of lunch and, as the food was revolting, it proved more worthwhile to take a lunch box. This provided an excellent opportunity to escape from the school grounds. I soon found a new routine of going to a quiet nearby swing-park with three classmates: Dave, Simon and Doug. We didn't actually do that much; talking rubbish, sitting around on swings and maybe an impromptu game of football - but it passed the time and staved off the boredom, intermingled with random violence, that was school life.

I left home at 18 and took the first chance I could to move away. I did keep in touch with some people but I've never been that great at writing or phoning. As it happened, Dave and Simon went to college in Sunderland so I saw them quite regularly whilst I lived in Newcastle and Doug would visit on occasion. However, as I moved about the country and had work and kids to take up my time, I found that I would see people increasingly rarely. Not that I didn't have good intentions of visiting folks and catching up. It's just that something else would always crop up. Then, just over three years ago, I received a call from Dave saying that Doug had died, suddenly, from heart failure.

That came out of the blue, and it made me realise that, for all my good intentions, it was nearly five years since I had seen him - and almost as long as that since I had seen most of my other old friends. I attended his funeral and caught up with many people that I hadn't seen for years. It was a very sad occasion but, for me, something of an awakening as well. As important as work and the routines of daily life may seem it is only so we can actually live and make some sense of this absurd world. It was decided that we should meet up in July for "The Mile" - Doug's infamous birthday pub crawl (in fact more of a hike as it is much longer than a mile) to remember lost friends and, for me, to catch up with those still with us.

The Mile takes in some 20 pubs starting from Doug's home town of New Brighton and taking in neighbouring Wallasey and Liscard. In fact, like Doug, some of the pubs are no longer with us so are substituted or doubled up (plus one New Brighton pub has a fantastic juke box which requires some attention). Also, it's not strictly pints (or even alcohol for that matter) as we are all somewhat older and wiser. The last time I got senselessly drunk was 10 years ago and my wife had to pick me up - she said I looked like the town drunk and, unfortunately, the town in question was Glasgow. So, whilst we are probably not going to be fit to drive by the end of the day there is, at least at the outset, a good intention of moderation.

So, hopefully a Saturday to remember and here's a toast to Old Friends.