Ian was a stereotype.
I didn’t really know him but I knew his wife.
The reason I say ‘stereotype’ is that he was a raging alcoholic but unbelievably functional. The usual story here, he worked in the entertainment industry as a lighting man for a theatre and that was a life that had alcohol not just at the end of the day, also throughout. As long as he could shine a spotlight and in these more technical days, programme a system, no one gave a shit.
He worked hard, lived hard and even with his excesses, he managed to save quite a bit of money. He knew people. He knew faces. He knew faces who would bring in more people so he decided to open a bar. That was an amazing idea for him, his business, his staff, his customers.
…Unfortunately not for his liver.
Into the mix, I throw in his wife. They were well suited. There was no arrogance about them, both of them were people magnets, they drew folks to them. I hate to say this regarding a man, but he was dapper. They were a stunning couple. Not in the stupid false way, they were quirky, dressed very well but a bit weird. They bounced off each other and their enthusiasm for each other manifested to others. It’s difficult to try and explain but intoxicating when you experienced it.
Ian and Kate did split up. I was never privy to why. I think that was a private matter between them. I wouldn’t have been a very good friend if I’d asked.
Kate went her own way for a few years, did a few things, was with a few guys but the old problem of family started to effect her. (Her and Ian never had any kids, they loved German Shepherds, that was another thing that made me like them) Her mum and dad took ill and there were the usual issues with her siblings on who did what and why.
The situation got worse and worse and she snapped.
Again, I don’t know the specifics but Kate tried to kill herself. It was pure chance that she was found. I don’t want to tell you the details of that as I would find that as me being disloyal to a friend that I had a lot of love for.
Ian came back when he found out how low she was.
He nursed, if that is the right word, her and with him, she began to feel valued (Her word, not mine) again.
Not sure if this is the romantic part of this story but they did begin to have fun again and there was a reliance between them.
According to Kate, it was her mistakenly opening one of Ian’s emails that made her ask.
He then, after God knows how many months told her that he was terminal.
Ian was a functioning alcoholic. But when you can function, something is being damaged.
He told her that years back he had been advised if he had given up, he would have had a longer life. But his life-style / want / need / habit had fucked that. He didn’t use any of those terms to Kate. He told her that he chose to use the word ‘Preference’.
Ian died at the age of fifty-four.
He was buried wearing a three piece suit. The waistcoat didn’t match – It was a Paisley Pattern number.
There was a free bar where his wake was held. Ian had put three grand behind the bar. The stipulation was, only Black Rum and Guinness would be served.
He had also left a few packets of Imodium for those who wished to partake.
The last time I saw Kate, she was happy. She’d met a mutual friend of theirs who’d lost his wife and things had happened from there.
She asked how I thought her friends would feel about her shacking up with a friend of Ian’s and I said:
‘As long as he doesn’t wear a terrible waistcoat, I’m sure they’ll be fine.’
literally stories 
This story is so close to real life. One that quietly plays out in the background of society and slips away unnoticed as a fact of life. I have not worn my paisley pattern waistcoat for a long time. What an admission.
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Hi James,
It is always a delight and an honour to receive a comment from you.
Thanks so much for the kind words.
When we were daft boys we went into the local snooker hall wearing terrible clothes. (Fuck knows why) I wore blue flared cords, a brown shirt, a mustard corded waistcoat and a Paisley Pattern tie. I wasn’t the worst, a fellow, I can’t remember his real name but was affectionately known as ‘Bawheid’ trumped me with a Poncho. No fucker before or ever since in the West Coast of Scotland has worn a Poncho.
Wherever that guy went and we were there, he was greeted with a…Doodle Doo Doo…Wah Wah Wah!!
HAH! I wonder how many folks would get that reference????
Hope all is well with you and yours my fine friend.
Hugh
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Hugh
Ian wanted quality over quantity. He could have lived thirty years longer if he had no fun. Maybe Nature tries to keep our numbers manageable by making everything we really like fatal in the long run. And offers us longevity only if we ingest stuff no more interesting than a parsnip. Also a great observation on friendship and knowing what is not your business.
Leila
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Hi leila,
This was based on the legend that is Phyllis, a beautiful person that I have bumped into throughout my last twenty years of working life. The MC I met once and shook his hand, that was it. The wee guy had a presence and someone I wish that I had known.
I have never liked parsnips – I don’t get them at Christmas – Give me a sprout every-time!!
Thanks as always!!
Hugh
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Agree on parsnips. Editor has some. I’m told it was a staple of US colonists, probably because as a root vegetable it was easy to grow and keep. Not common here now, and not to my taste.
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Another look at a slice of life peopled with real characters who are just a bit ‘bigger’ than normal. All part of what is called the rich tapestry – maybe it should be called the Paisley patterened life. Great to see this up on the site.
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Hi Diane,
You are right, there are some folks whose character is bigger than normal and not in a bad way. I reckon we all have those that we consider a privilege to have known. Those are the ones that give you that lump in your throat when they are no longer around and you think on them.
Thanks as always!!
Hugh
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A rich slice of love (no typo!). A good if reflective way to start the week.
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Hi Steven,
I like the word reflective. It points towards those we haven’t known that well but had an impact on our lives.
Thanks so much for the comments – They mean a helluva lot to me.
Hugh
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Great character study. And, unusually, a narrator who isn’t omniscient – a nice touch, adding authenticity
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Hi Mick,
Thanks so much for that.
Your comment makes me happy simply because when I use the narrator medium, I never want to opinionate anything, all I want to do is tell the story. I suppose that is all to do with honesty and respect to those involved.
Cheers ma man!!
Hugh
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There is much to be said for a life lived on one’s own terms, and there are worse things than to have one’s life shortened by their choice of lifestyle. Ian reminds me of my father, which is not a bad thing. He smoked and drank himself into an early grave, and while I would have loved to have him longer, I cannot imagine him without a cigarette in his lips, a beer in his hand, and a cup of black coffee waiting in the wings. He might have lived longer if he hadn’t been himself. But that might have been a greater tragedy, eh?
I like, as well, that Kate went on to find happiness. It keeps this from be stale and cliche. And that’s how life really is, isn’t it? We move on. This is, I believe, what makes life both bitter and sweet. And bittersweet, which is another thing altogether.
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Hi Thurman,
This is one of the most heartfelt and personal comments I have ever read on the site. Thank you so much for that!!
Not only that your thoughts are perceptive they are very true!
Good on your dad for being true to himself!!!!!!
It is an honour to have read this.
All the very best my fine friend.
Hugh
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Believable characters, and I see from Hugh’s comment they’re an extrapolation of real life folks. It’s difficult to convey such character development in so few words. This piece does it with an excellent selection of details, humor and from the perspective of a narrator who respected the people he’s talking about. Very well done.
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Hi Dave,
Thanks so much.
I reckon, overall these are the best comments that I have received for any of my stories.
I am delighted to have done this justice…With a wee tad of poetic licence.
All the very best my fine friend – As always – Much appreciated.
Hugh
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The quality and quantity of comments are well-deserved, Hugh.
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This hit home. My 59 year old nephew just died. He led a rough life – estranged from mother and stepfather, indulged too much. Don’t know how his sexuality factored in.
Close friends widow and widower slightly resemble the final couple.
Most of us know people like that. Not so young Neil has a song “Needle And The Damage Done” Every junkie’s like the setting sun (shines brightly then goes out).
The wild life is great if you want to die young and leave a beautiful corpse, but most us (me) prefer a long life and leave an ugly cadaver. In any case, as I so often mention, I’m too old for premature anything.
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Cheers Doug,
I suppose when I write anything and there is something / someone recognisable, I’ve done my job.
It’s better that than someone thinking – ‘That type of character doesn’t exist’
Thanks so much!
All the very best my fine friend.
Hugh
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This is an incredibly heartfelt, understated, realistic story. These kind of stories are the kind of fiction I love. Great work.
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Hi Paul,
Thanks as always my fine friend for the kind words, they are much appreciated.
Hugh
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Painfully beautiful.
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Hi Rachel,
It’s always a pleasure to see you around the site.
Thanks so much for the comment!!
Hugh
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Wow, I have closely known so many people like Ian. Well done and I love the sort of arm’s length voice.
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Hi Marisa,
Thanks so much for the kind comments.
When we consider stories and are suspicious that the writers voice or opinions bleed into the story, they are up against it. So you mentioning ‘arms length voice’ makes me very happy!
All the very best.
Hugh
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