How crazy is this shit?

Yesterday, I was invited to my co-author's "secret" birthday party. He's a good mate of mine for some years now and he's encouraged me a lot with publication and just getting a "beat" on my present job which is in a weird environment that many good people find difficult to settle into, despite their best efforts.

I remember two things that stand out to me about my relationship with the guy. The first is sitting by the Thames in 2007 sharing with him my first thoughts on the Gonzo Lecture. The second was when I was still co-habiting with my rather difficult ex-wife. He lent me his flat keys and said that the next time she called the cops on me for no particular reason, I was free to come and bed down at his place whether he was there or not. You don't forget shit like that.

This is especially true when going through difficult times in the academic life when situations can break you. It's always astonished me how you sort your true friends out from the total fuckers who aren't.

It's easy to lift a finger to help someone when the chips are down. My mantra's a bit like the Rangers - when it comes to the faculty, you never leave a brother (or sister) in the shit. No man left behind. It's a code. But it's on the decrease,
I've felt. In fact, I've been through depression, madness and even years ago periods of feeling almost suicidal and it's never ceased to amaze me what people's reactions can be.

Certain times, "dear" colleagues caused me to feel when times were rough that they were even trying to make a bad situation a lot worse for me - but to this day, I still give them the benefit of the doubt. I'm just gullible, I guess.

But the other night there was a vast array of people I didn't know. I caught up with one I did and we had a good chat. Big fan of the blog apparently.

When my friend arrived - nearly 2 hours late - he walked into the restaurant where we were all hiding and was astounded and fairly fazed to see us all there smiling and cheering. Kimono slammed a handful of sharp glitter into his face just for good measure.

I didn't stay long - we both had to get back to take care of the kids as they had school the next day.

What did make my night, apart from my friend's clear surprise, was the cake his beloved girl had made for him. It had his 3 books, including the one we've just published together. That was cool.

I wanted to eat my own name.