On Friendship

There was once a band called the Whisky Priests, who for years formed the soundtrack to my life. The lead singer was sometimes off-key, but the passion and anger in his voice made up for that, plus his twin brother played accordion and rejoiced in the name of Glenn Miller. That'll do for me. But they lost their way in the early 90s, going a bit heavy rock, and I lost interest, despite the silly haircut I was sporting for the while. Then, last Christmas Olga treated me to a couple of their later albums - 'Think Positive!' is a real return to form, and how I wish I'd caught a gig when they were touring this album. Tight harmonies, proper musicianship, but still the passion and the emotion. And one song called 'My Ship' struck a chord with something I've been feeling for a good while.

"I left my friends and my family behind

Sailing away on a fast-rolling tide

No thoughts of a future or what I might find
On a wave of destruction through the passage of time"

For all of my conscious life, I've worked on a theory of friendship that stated the test of a true friend is when it doesn't matter if you see them after a break of five minutes or five years, you'll still have that connection. It's a theory that has served me well, by which I mean it's let me lead a selfish, peripatetic existence: it's been great knowing you, but now I'm pissing off abroad for an indefinite period, I'll see you when I get back. The unspoken subtext to this was: If you're there, great, we'll have a pint, if not, well, such is life, we all move on and thanks for the memories. I know there are a few of you reading this that have been in the same boat, but there are more of you that I was happy enough to fondly imagine waving handkerchiefs as my ferry pulled away, with not so much as a picture postcard to let you know how appreciated you were.

"Blinkered, unguided with sails to the wind
Through the eye of a storm I drew my ship in
No thought to all hands on this voyage of the damned
Desperately seeking an unreachable land"

I was never great at writing postcards, and then when t'internets came along and proffered e-mails, I wasn't so hot at writing them, either. And when it got bad, and believe me, there have been bad times, especially over the last five years or so, I hesitated to call you: "Hi, it's me, how you doing? Yeah? Well, really shit, since you ask." I didn't want to land whatever was depressing me at the time onto you, and I suppose I was scared that if I did, you might push me away. I'm really sorry that I have underestimated your friendship so badly. You would have helped, one way or another, if I'd only had the courage to reach out to you. And the worst of it is, I never felt that when shove came to push, I could have offered a shoulder for you, if you had happened to need one. I know for a fact how upset at least one of you out there has been by this. My lack of confidence in myself let us all down doubly, and if this message serves no other purpose, I can at least hope it expresses my gratitude for the friendship that you have offered, and apologise for my inability to reciprocate fully.

"For the ocean is deep and destructive
In my pride I thought I could conquer its soul
But I forsook all I had, I must have been mad
No longer shipshape, I'm alone

I left my friends and my family behind"

But I'm aiming for more than just an apology. I can only judge from my own experience, maybe we all feel like this, but it seems to me I have been unusually blessed in the people that I've been able to call friends. Although I know our lives have moved on since we were regularly in touch - many of you are in different countries, if not continents, now - I'd like to diffidently suggest a way in which we might be able to maintain some sort of tangential contact, and this blog is it. I'm trying to be honest with this post, and part of that honesty is recognising what I alluded to in the previous paragraph about me failing to write to people. I've been in touch with a few of you relatively recently, but the nascent correspondence has fizzled out again. This failing is even less likely to change now that I have a relationship, child and thesis to support, but where I felt inadequate in the face of the naggingly empty outbox - and the gods forfend that I should write a round-robin - a blog seems far less daunting.


I have tried blogging before, but as my last post said, I never felt too happy with that attempt. Other people were managing to be funny or satirical with far greater success and, after all, what's the point of shouting out into the ether if you're not sure anyone's listening? The opinions that have really mattered to me in life have been yours, and I'd like to carry on or resume hearing them. I'll be posting occasional thoughts on here, not all of which will be as serious as this one. There's a comment button at the bottom of this and every post, if something I or someone else writes catches your eye, would you leave a comment? If this takes off the way I hope it will, I'll start sending you out the log-in details so that you can add posts of your own. If I've had my chance with you and blown it, then so be it - please keep in mind the last sentence of the third paragraph, and thank you for reading this far. But I hope that there's still enough of a shred of truth in my theory for this to work: just because a community is imagined doesn't mean it can't also be real. What do you think?