john paul medhurst

"Where the f#%@ do you think you're going?" I asked a dishevelled Glancy, as he screwed it downstairs at 4am and straight out the front door, naked apart from that infernal sheepskin coat, sliced up the arm. The answer was at once from a man who knew no pain but at the same time knew the pain of the whole world.

"I'm gonna find an ironmonger who doesn't ask questions!"

First met Bryan when he would dispense anecdotes on the side of his espressos from his pre-blaze gaff in Sedgley Park. Every now and then I would make it to something he was doing and vice versa. And that was how it stayed, it would take me the three months I didn't see him to get ready for /get over the intellectual gymnastics that was inevitably our weekend. More recently I have been the honoured guest at Chez Glancy on three occasions, the end of last year I brought a great friend to meet him and just later with my girlfriend. He and Zoe then found it in their hearts to offer me their spare room for a week when I could find no love at my parents home in Prestwich. I moved to LA in 2000 and never until last year got to come and go as I pleased. I would come back to see my parents and see Bryan and that was it for me.

I will miss walking into a club with him and spending the rest of the night wondering where the hell he got to. I will miss walking out the door with him and watching in bewildered amusement as he disappeared over the horizon, his legs a positive blur.

The fact that I only saw Bryan every few months ultimately packed a poignant punch for me as I received news of his passing sitting alone in Cromwells Tower on the barren Isle of Tresco in late August, a fitting backdrop for the saddest news I ever heard, the world suddenly desolate and cold. I sat and wondered how many times since January I had thought of calling him and never, just because. .

Bryan, unlike some you knew, you steered your own course, and though the destination was uncertain and the weather sometimes foul, to laugh with you as the waves crashed through the windows was my pleasure, I just wish your ship would have smashed itself on the rocks of Malibu, just once more. I haven' t even begun to miss you, mate.

Is that the time?

love and love john paul medhurst

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