Sunday, July 10, 2022

con el chum chum de las peñas

 The Seagull matinee was cancelled yesterday; two members of the cast having gone down with the dreaded Lurgi (that's Covid in pounds, shillings, and pence). 

Rob, Ria, Mia and I retreated to The Three Crowns where we were joined by Rod, who was booked to meet us there after the show but came along earlier in the circs.

Everyone got along famously and I was tremendously touched. If we classify Rob and Ria (being a couple) as a sort of communal being, none of them had met each other before. I was the only common denominator, the lightning rod, the sheet anchor..... ("Enough elaborate synonyms already!" Ed).

Also it meant that we got to see Wales beat the Springboks on their own turf for the first time evah!

As a sort of tribute to friendship, let's see if we can work out how long I have known Rod M. 

Chris and I definitely met him and John in Bilbao in the 80s. They approached us and asked if we would keep an eye on their luggage while they argued with the police. How's that for meeting cute? If he was Meg Ryan and I was Tom Hanks it would be the greatest rom-com evah!

We were all on our way to Pamplona, so we chummed around and - as I recall - met up with Sean when we got there. (This was in the days when Sean was, to all intents and purposes, Mickey Rourke in Rumble Fish but that is a story for another day.) San Fermin is in progress as I write which adds to the resonance.

Lost contact after that, but then one day, back in London, as I was crossing Putney Bridge (South to North) I met Rod and John (North to South trajectory). What with one thing and another, us all being in our early to mid twenties, I ended up living with them and the "other" Nick in the International House of Madness above the clock shop next door to the Half Moon.

I know I moved out after I started my Evening MBA in the, then, City University Business School which kicked off in February 2006, the IHOM not being suited to study and contemplation.

I know I was in Scotland for a good few months towards the end of 1985, so let's say 1984 was the year I moved in. Can it really be 1983 that we bumped into each other in Spain? I think it can.

Forty years ago next July. Gosh. I think a party is called for.

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