Ashes to Lashes

I am writing this on an evening train back home from London after one of the most intense but ultimately wonderfully strange days of my strange transitioned life.

The story starts in the depths of the early eighties. Two lads in their early teens, a year apart, bond over Sir Clive Sinclair’s computers. More over, the older one, who we shall call G was impressed with the one we now know as A’s, Spectrum compared to his G’s ZX81.

G and A grew up together through that foreign land of, Thatcher, Royal Weddings, Miner’s Strike’s and death at football grounds. They shared a geeky passion for Dungeons & Dragons, painstakingly painting their lead (and probably toxic) figures of orcs, goblins and dragons with unnecessary detail. They sat in bedrooms listening to long deleted music, on flimsy plastic Amstrad Hi-Fis and clunky mono cassette recorders. Albums of obscure electro eighties pop and angry Thatcher hating bands of the Red Wedge generation (Faith Brothers in particular, were our favourite). That same cassette player would double as a Spectrum software  driver, as long as you could get the volume slider set just, just, just right.

G and A would spend hot summer days improvising cricket against the

garage door, and sweaty nights bouncing along at their first pop concerts.

Tears for Fears at the Vicky Hall in Hanley, with faltering sound equipment, having to repeat their biggest hit, Shout; An Ultravox-less Midge Ure singing “Feed The World” to a swaying crowd at the Manchester Apollo; Sting and band of Jazz musicians, covering more obscure The Police covers on his Bring On The Night Tour; Chris de Burgh in the “Cow Shed” of Stafford County Showground, dedicating a song to local train crash victims, before launching into Patricia The Stripper.

Then they turned 18 and trotted off to Universities (well G’s was actually a Poly) at opposite ends of the country, and that was that. They lost touch completely. The ashes of the friendship just strong memories and the odd gatefold sleeve album.

Fast forward 22 years. G is now J and living that life you read about on this blog. (yeah I know you  figured that already, but you know me, style over substance every time)

Losing touch with A was my biggest regret by far in a litany of lost friendships. In fact I blogged about it over a year ago, but after a brief unsuccessful foray trying to track him down I pretty much gave up hope of seeing him again.

Then, a month or so ago, I was travelling back at night from the G20 march when I checked the hotmail on my Blackberry, when amongst a list of emails that appeared to be spam I spied a name that tugged at me. I opened that email and was shaken out of my Motorway induced stupor.

As I sat on the dark snooze filled coach reading the email for my best friend of those far off days I could not hold off the emotion. My eyes filled with tears and my body quivered quietly. I thought that no one had noticed, but Vicky sitting opposite touched my arm and whispered, “Whats up”. “Read this” I said, and showed her A’s email. I couldn’t really explain to her the effect it had on me. 2 decades had gone with the click of that icon.

Well today (the today when I’m writing this) we met up again, and it was brilliant. We talked for over 3 hours,

before I had to get this train back up north. You know, even after more than half our lives we were essentially those same two friends from so long ago. I guess I may have changed a bit more physically what with the gender and all that, but neither of us were that different than we remembered. We slipped into conversation so easily, without a hint of awkwardness. That has to show how strong a bond we had. Apart from trying to précis the last 20 years, we mostly just talked about the same stuff we talked about all those years ago.

I had one of the best days I can remember in a long time (maybe 22 years). Sitting on this train home the rhythm of the track being echoed by the tapping of a dozen laptops, I cant help but look back on my life. For all that had happened in 2 decades I’m not sure I’m all that different from that geeky, insecure teenager. Back then I had no real idea where I was going, and even now I tend to live in the moment and struggle to make any plans more than a couple of weeks hence. The world is a significantly different planet in 2009 than it was in 1987. I am still the same alien creature I always was. 

Thank you A. A better friend than I deserved, then and now.