October 2, 2007

October 2, 2007

Some bird just rang me.

Literally.

Her name's Nok, which means, well, bird.

Couldn't understand a word she said, though - she just kept twittering on.

October 2, 2007

Labile, adj
Prone to change; unstable

"Are you all right now, being back and all?" asked Nipper, almost sounding like he cared, which, for an unkempt buzzard prone to prolonged bouts of furious bipolar action himself, was no mean feat.

"I really don't know," replied Zeds. "Really. I don't know."

"Anything I can do?" wondered the tattily feathered predator, utterly lacking sincerity, as he surreptitiously scowled over his Times su doku.

"Mai rue," sighed Zeds, like a forlorn island boy. "Never mind."

October 2, 2007

1

...but it just wasn't enough.

I spent the first week out of it, the second apologising for the first, and the third actually enjoying myself.

Then, on the penultimate night, the parentals (as Mikkel referred to them) came to visit us in Lamai again.

So, we go first to Odd and Daeng's place once more, where Mama (Mae)has prawns the size of small children stirred into a chilli paste that she asks to be phet phet (hot hot).

Papameisterflash, on remarkably good form for the holiday, it has to be said, gorged himself from a charcoal-fired lobster pot.

The Dane scoffed something sinisterly fiery, accompanied by rice with a fried egg plopped over it, and Zeds made do with a tureen of fried pork in garlic and pepper.

All washed down with jungle juice, obviously.

Then we strolled to Patdee's place a little further up the beach, where the barman, Alan, a migrating Thai from the north east, is serving.

I mention my Swiss friend, Sylvie, because she has emailed and asked me to please visit Blue Marina bar and say hello (even though I've been there every day already).

"He was my honey this time," said the horny old bat.

Alan smiles shyly, then shows me the texts she's sent.

Cute.

I met Sylvie four years ago. That time, readers, she "went to Hawaii" with my friend, Joe.

So we buy Alan a beer, and he sits down. "Tell me Dut Tin," he asks. "You know Keith?"

2

"He was my best friend," I reply. "But he die now."

"I know," says Alan, who first raises a toast to friends past with a traditional chok dii - good luck - before then explaining that his sister is Pen, Keith's girlfriend of three years before, and who still bears his name on her arm.

So, that will be Zeds astonished at the size of this piddling little world again.

And a little sad, too.

For three weeks, I have had people say how sorry they are about my friend. And I appreciate the sentiments, I really do. But Keith isn't coming back, and I can't spend every day raising glasses to him, or lighting Chinese lanterns into the sky, because if there is just one thing that I cannot do forever, it is to celebrate death, however well meant.

Life might be a tiresome precursor sometimes - and God knows I help it along sometimes - but, as they say in those American parts, I have to agree: Death sucks.

3

So here I am, back in Hoylake. In the morning, on Ozzzy's sofa, hungover, jetlagged, listening to a quiet snore coming from up the stairs. She's ace, you know. I must have staggered in here at around 9ish last night to say "hi, I'm back", and then collapsed on her settee, whereupon I now lie covered in warm blankets and yesterday's clothes.

I lost another friend yesterday, though. I had to. Some terribly malicious shit came to me via SMS on my first proper break in three years, so after a slug or two (or nine) of jungle juice I went to his house, shook his hand, thanked him for the good times, and said goodbye for good.

He looked a little perplexed, but I knew that he knew what I meant.

As the Chinese say: May he live in interesting times.

4

I miss Ta (pronounced Daa) who wants me to run her beach bar with her; I miss crazy Laura; the dark, delicious Maxine; the ever beautiful Roz, and her grumpy son Jack; Liam, Auy, Odd Daeng, Ai, Oht, Att, Wan, Maem, Baeng, An, Nok, Mae, Rose, Sao, Pen, Oii.

I'm still enormously tired, though, so that will explain my bleary morning tears, don't you think?

I hope so.

5

Thank you, sincerely, for looking out for my mate.

You know who.

And you know who you are.

Thank you again.

x