The Guitar
Apr. 16th, 2013 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eiffel_71
Went up to York on Sunday for Alistair's funeral. Arrived at MK station with over half an hour before my train was due to leave; came out of the cafe to find a lot of people hanging around the main hall, and the display board showing all trains as delayed due to signalling problems.
Mercifully, the Manchester train was only just over half an hour late. For me, with my ongoing financial headache, that was better than being just under half an hour late, as a delay of over 30 minutes lets you claim back half the fare for that leg of the journey.
Arrived at York station just after 4 pm and joined a long taxi queue. When I finally got a cab, the driver was a cheerful chatty chap, and recommended a Chinese take-away along the street from my guest house as we passed it. The guest house landlady was very friendly too; she was sympathetic when she heard why I was in town, and mentioned that there'd been a funeral last week for another man who'd lived on the same street and died relatively young (the guest house was on the street where Alistair lived, and next door to the funeral church).
I listened to the Non-Stop Classic Top 40 from this week in 1983 on Replay Radio then moseyed down to the Chinese for an excellent chicken with cashew nuts. Spent the rest of the evening surfing TV channels. Hit on More 4 just in time for two episodes of Father Ted then drifted off to sleep.
The funeral was in the morning. In the hearse was a red and white flower display reading 'Pip Pip' (one of Alistair's catchphrases) from several of his friends. The church was absolutely jam packed : several of us were standing in the aisle unable to find a pew, and were told to go to the very front where there were a few spaces.
After the chaplain from the hospice, who was doing the service, introduced herself, we sang In The Bleak Midwinter. Just like Alistair to choose a Christmas carol out of season. Alistair's brother Andy read a passage from the Bible and burst into tears near the end. The chaplain led us in some prayers then we sang Jerusalem. Knowing Al was a Billy Bragg fan, I wonder if he'd chosen this hymn because of Billy's stated belief, in album notes, that it was a socialist song.
Another Andy, a friend of Al's, delivered the eulogy, starting with the Shakespeare quote 'All the world's a stage' and recounting how, ever since he first met Al at the age of eight, he'd spotted that Al was a born performer - "he brought something to his portrayal of Mowgli in the Jungle Book that no-one else in the school could have matched". His whole speech was, fittingly, full of humorous anecdotes, and Al's obsessions with Dr Who and Barnsley FC were mentioned. It would have been wrong not to.
Indeed, next, in place of another reading, two of Al's other friends acted out a scene from Dr Who, one of them in cyberman costume. We finished with Guide Me, O Thou Great Redeemer and, on the way out, there was a tot of whisky each for us to drink a toast to him.
I milled around scanning the crowd outside the church looking for anyone else from the Crazy Gang from our first year at uni, but didn't see any. That, though, made me all the more glad that I took the trouble to attend. The Crazy Gang was an important year in Alistair's life and it would have been wrong to not have one of us there. I got to give Jenny a quick hug and offer my condolences, she said "Thank you for coming." She was bursting in and out of tears as everybody in turn went up to console her.
I popped back to the guest house for a little rest and relaxation while the family and close friends went on to the crematorium, then took a bus into the city centre where the function room of a pub had been booked. A buffet was laid on, including very tasty chips, and the bar served excellent York Chocolate Stout and Nicholson's Pale Ale. A wander round confirmed that I was the only Crazy Gangite present, but I had a quick interesting chat with Al's sixth-form drama teacher, who'd gone on to become an actress in TV, including working with Belinda Lang whom she said was lovely, appearing episodes of Doctors and A Touch of Frost, and having the chance of a part in Emmerdale but missing out because she didn't want to leave her Manchester-based agent (shame he/she couldn't get her into Corrie). I only heard her first name, Bea. She recalled how, on his free periods, Al used to come down to her drama workshop and join in whatever class she was taking at the time. Bea's husband told me how, for all Al's (deserved) reputation as a cheerful eccentric and jolly joker, they both were well acquainted with the fragile personality behind the mask, drawing parallels with Grimaldi and Spike Milligan. They knew how Al had dropped out of Warwick Uni after a month; they hadn't heard how Al had another breakdown in December 1990 that led to him leaving our uni, returning in January 1992 to complete his course, but weren't surprised. We agreed that his taking the year's break had been a blessing because, if he'd left in June 1992, he'd never have met Jenny. Bea and her husband told me how Jenny had been Al's rock from when they got together till the end of his life, and always mothered him to a degree.
After the buffet food, I had a chat with Jenny then sat alone at a table with my pint. At an adjacent table were a group of people Al had worked with at York Uni. After I chipped in to add to one of their reminiscences about Al, they waved me over to join them, and we all had some very interesting chats. A recurring theme was an aspect of his personality I'd had no idea of - persistent failure as a matchmaker! Some of the group told how Al had tried to set up various pairings among them and their circle, never with success; at one time he'd tried to match two of them despite both of them already dating other people. The time flew; I was shocked to glance at the clock and see it was showing ten past six. I drank up, said my goodbyes and made my way to the bus stop.
Back at the guest house, on my iPad I put on a few tracks from They Might Be Giants' Flood, the album Al played non-stop in the Hall of Residence during that first year.
In the spaceship, the silver spaceship, the lion waves goodbye.
Mercifully, the Manchester train was only just over half an hour late. For me, with my ongoing financial headache, that was better than being just under half an hour late, as a delay of over 30 minutes lets you claim back half the fare for that leg of the journey.
Arrived at York station just after 4 pm and joined a long taxi queue. When I finally got a cab, the driver was a cheerful chatty chap, and recommended a Chinese take-away along the street from my guest house as we passed it. The guest house landlady was very friendly too; she was sympathetic when she heard why I was in town, and mentioned that there'd been a funeral last week for another man who'd lived on the same street and died relatively young (the guest house was on the street where Alistair lived, and next door to the funeral church).
I listened to the Non-Stop Classic Top 40 from this week in 1983 on Replay Radio then moseyed down to the Chinese for an excellent chicken with cashew nuts. Spent the rest of the evening surfing TV channels. Hit on More 4 just in time for two episodes of Father Ted then drifted off to sleep.
The funeral was in the morning. In the hearse was a red and white flower display reading 'Pip Pip' (one of Alistair's catchphrases) from several of his friends. The church was absolutely jam packed : several of us were standing in the aisle unable to find a pew, and were told to go to the very front where there were a few spaces.
After the chaplain from the hospice, who was doing the service, introduced herself, we sang In The Bleak Midwinter. Just like Alistair to choose a Christmas carol out of season. Alistair's brother Andy read a passage from the Bible and burst into tears near the end. The chaplain led us in some prayers then we sang Jerusalem. Knowing Al was a Billy Bragg fan, I wonder if he'd chosen this hymn because of Billy's stated belief, in album notes, that it was a socialist song.
Another Andy, a friend of Al's, delivered the eulogy, starting with the Shakespeare quote 'All the world's a stage' and recounting how, ever since he first met Al at the age of eight, he'd spotted that Al was a born performer - "he brought something to his portrayal of Mowgli in the Jungle Book that no-one else in the school could have matched". His whole speech was, fittingly, full of humorous anecdotes, and Al's obsessions with Dr Who and Barnsley FC were mentioned. It would have been wrong not to.
Indeed, next, in place of another reading, two of Al's other friends acted out a scene from Dr Who, one of them in cyberman costume. We finished with Guide Me, O Thou Great Redeemer and, on the way out, there was a tot of whisky each for us to drink a toast to him.
I milled around scanning the crowd outside the church looking for anyone else from the Crazy Gang from our first year at uni, but didn't see any. That, though, made me all the more glad that I took the trouble to attend. The Crazy Gang was an important year in Alistair's life and it would have been wrong to not have one of us there. I got to give Jenny a quick hug and offer my condolences, she said "Thank you for coming." She was bursting in and out of tears as everybody in turn went up to console her.
I popped back to the guest house for a little rest and relaxation while the family and close friends went on to the crematorium, then took a bus into the city centre where the function room of a pub had been booked. A buffet was laid on, including very tasty chips, and the bar served excellent York Chocolate Stout and Nicholson's Pale Ale. A wander round confirmed that I was the only Crazy Gangite present, but I had a quick interesting chat with Al's sixth-form drama teacher, who'd gone on to become an actress in TV, including working with Belinda Lang whom she said was lovely, appearing episodes of Doctors and A Touch of Frost, and having the chance of a part in Emmerdale but missing out because she didn't want to leave her Manchester-based agent (shame he/she couldn't get her into Corrie). I only heard her first name, Bea. She recalled how, on his free periods, Al used to come down to her drama workshop and join in whatever class she was taking at the time. Bea's husband told me how, for all Al's (deserved) reputation as a cheerful eccentric and jolly joker, they both were well acquainted with the fragile personality behind the mask, drawing parallels with Grimaldi and Spike Milligan. They knew how Al had dropped out of Warwick Uni after a month; they hadn't heard how Al had another breakdown in December 1990 that led to him leaving our uni, returning in January 1992 to complete his course, but weren't surprised. We agreed that his taking the year's break had been a blessing because, if he'd left in June 1992, he'd never have met Jenny. Bea and her husband told me how Jenny had been Al's rock from when they got together till the end of his life, and always mothered him to a degree.
After the buffet food, I had a chat with Jenny then sat alone at a table with my pint. At an adjacent table were a group of people Al had worked with at York Uni. After I chipped in to add to one of their reminiscences about Al, they waved me over to join them, and we all had some very interesting chats. A recurring theme was an aspect of his personality I'd had no idea of - persistent failure as a matchmaker! Some of the group told how Al had tried to set up various pairings among them and their circle, never with success; at one time he'd tried to match two of them despite both of them already dating other people. The time flew; I was shocked to glance at the clock and see it was showing ten past six. I drank up, said my goodbyes and made my way to the bus stop.
Back at the guest house, on my iPad I put on a few tracks from They Might Be Giants' Flood, the album Al played non-stop in the Hall of Residence during that first year.
In the spaceship, the silver spaceship, the lion waves goodbye.
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Date: 2013-04-17 07:33 am (UTC)Has anybody here seen my old friend...........