Sunday 24 May 2009

Some things are better than money !


Yesterday I found an old tape of my band, The False Dots. It was a "best of" compilation I'd made in 1988 for listening to in the car. It's been at least 10 years, probably longer since I listened to the tape. I thought I'd have a quick listen. Having forgotten completely what was on it, I was shocked when I played the start of the tape. In 1985, we'd done a gig at the Old Bull Art Centre in Barnet. I had a friend who was a talented comedian who had introduced us. The intro was hilarious. I'd put this intro as the opening of the tape. As I listened, I was overcome with sadness. My friend had massive issues with alcohol. He'd started drinking heavily at 14. I had heard that in 1990 he'd committed suicide. I realised that the reason I didn't listen to this tape was because it was just too depressing to hear him & think of the tragic waste.

My friend was 3 years younger than me. His life in some ways had followed mine. We'd both got to know each other as alter servers as kids. He'd followed me to Finchley Catholic High School. He was a highly intelligent and highly articulate kid. He was small for his age but able to verbally better anyone. He had a voice made for comedy and radio. The trouble was that Finchley in the early 1980's wasn't the school for his talents. In year 8, he'd said the wrong thing to the wrong person. He'd ended up in hospital. How did the school deal with it? They told his father that he was an unpopular child and his father could come to hear the pupils explain why. He followed my path from Finchley to Orange Hill School. Shortly after he started drinking. By the time he was 16 he was an alcoholic. I always liked him and tried to encourage him, but his demons were too deep. He moved to Ireland, had a child, came back. He'd try and get his life together, hit the buffers, go back on the drink. He fell off the Mill Hill scene radar. I saw his brother some time in 1990 and he looked distressed. "What's up?" I asked. "My Brother has committed suicide, the priest is on the way to see him". End of conversation. End of listening to that tape. Occasionally I'd find it, play it, put it away, feel sad.

Anyway, I found the tape yesterday. It was bitter sweet listening to it again. There is a line in the intro where he says "This band comes from Mill Hill. Mill Hill is a sleepy place, where everyone goes to bed by 9 O'clock. Well nearly everyone, because this band don't. When you hear them, maybe you'll wish they had" This got a rather big laugh. Memories, some things you can't buy.

Anyway, being a good Catholic lad, I went off to church this evening for the 6pm mass. As I left, I realised that my Uncle was there and I hadn't enquired after my Auntie who is unwell. I turned back and nearly knocked someone over in the process. He looked at me and said "Rog !". I couldn't believe my eyes. In the Catholic year, today is ascention day. The day Jesus departed to heaven. Rather remarkably, my friend who had committed suicide in 1990, was standing in front of me. It seems he'd come the other way ! I really couldn't believe my eyes. He explained that he'd taken a paracetamol overdose. He'd had 90% liver failure, received the last rights from a priest. He was currently off the booze & trying to get his life together. He said that every day since then he'd tried to treat as a blessing. He looked rather well, considering everything. He told me that he edits a newsletter for people with mental health issues. He is going for a job with the BBC as part of a program for people with issues such as his.

I always believed that if he got the chance he really could do well at radio or as a comedian. I hope he gets the opportunity. He was the most fearless person I've ever met, despite his slight build. He was also the most incisively witty. He was the person who lead me to the conclusion that if you are too intelligent, it is impossible to be completely sane. He couldn't listen to anyone or anything without seeing through whatever bull was being spoken. I think that's why he drank. It stopped him thinking.

I can't tell you how happy I was to find out that he was still with us. I told him about my blog. I hope he reads this. Some things are better than money, finding a friend you thought was gone forever is one of them.

2 comments:

Citizen Barnet said...

Your life is starting to sound like a magic realist novel, Roger. It must feel like that to you too, some of the time. Best wishes to your friend.

Rog T said...

Vicki,
Most of the time it isn't, but it has been a very good week.