It's hard enough ending a meaningful relationship, harder still when it's a relationship with a friend with whom you have had such good times over the years. In my case this friend entered my life for the first time when I was just five. I was at a wedding in Holland and my German uncles felt it was a good idea to introduce me to champagne. I think I liked it. That was a fleeting encounter and our meetings were infrequent over the next ten years. Then I became a teenager and our friendship blossomed. Since that time, from the age 16 or 17, my friend has been a more or less constant companion. That means our friendship has been pretty solid for the past 44 years. Up until recently that is. The cracks in our friendship are beginning to show. My trusted old friend may have to be shown the door and I feel torn.
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| Old friends reflecting on a long and complex relationship in Dublin |
Teenage kicks
Although I had enjoyed a few tastes of wine and beer growing up it was during the teenage years that I realised that alcohol and I were going to be a good friends. As a nervy, anxious teen I remember my new friend getting me through a few awkward first dates.There was one night in particular.
I was 17 years old and a gorgeous girl (let's call her Sue) had agreed to go with me to a party I had been invited to. She looked great, lovely clothes, but I had a jacket on that was too big for me (my mum was still buying my clothes at this point and thought I would "grow into" my new jacket). I was nervous and hardly spoke on the bus journey to the party. We arrived. The other boys were eyeing up Sue like adolescent stags posturing and positioning themselves to take advantage of any nervousness and indecision on my part. The horror of teenage mating rituals. I knew what I was supposed to do; put my arms around her, dance with her, send out an unmistakable message to the stalking males. But I was shy and nervous around girls at that age and the self doubt crept in; if put my arm around her would she shriek in horror and revulsion and everyone at the party howl in derision at my mistaken idea that she could be remotely interested in me? And yet, if I did nothing, then I would surely lose Sue to one of the testosterone boys and down that path lay humiliation and what I was convinced would be an eternity of singledom.
At that moment my friend stepped in. He took the form of a bottle of beer, I drank deeply then reached for a second. I reached in my pocket for that other friend (long since dismissed) "the French Cigarette." I puffed at the cigarette and held the bottle. I felt transformed. I was no longer a boy. I was an all smoking all drinking man! I felt the waves of fear and anxiety receding. The beach of teenage confidence revealed itself and shimmered through the smoke of my Gauloise. I stepped into the rock pools of beery confidence. My slightly befuddled brain spoke to me, "You look cool John, she wants you,what are you waiting for."
What a plonker I was! Of course I didn't look cool, but what was important was that I felt cool. I also felt relaxed and started chatting to Sue and joking around. I was confident and enjoying myself. I danced and chatted with Sue and even got a kiss. The stags suddenly all looked like miniature Bambis and I was the stag of the loch (funny how alcohol affects self perception isn't it?)
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| One beer and I'm alpha stag |
Celebration Time
During those next 40 years we have experienced the best of times together and the worst. We have celebrated weddings, christenings, landmark birthdays and even the false dawn that was a Labour victory in 1997. We've met some great people together, had some crazy parties and survived some awkward situations. With such a shared history why would I even be considering saying goodbye to such a friend?
Should he stay or should he go?
Well, the fact is, my friend is simply not as much fun as he used to be. Let me explain. In the good old days at Warwick University or in the many Youngs pubs of Wandsworth and Putney where I grew up, we would go out and have mighty craic as the Irish would say. Drinking all manner of wonderfully exotic beers and lagers from around the world, I would loosen up, enjoy myself, lose my inhibitions, do and say things I would not normally do and say and then after a few hours sleep, wake up, shake off the mildest of hangovers and get on with the day. What pals we were. It was a great relationship. Loads of fun and pleasure for what seemed like just the scantiest of paybacks. Even better, this friend was one that was freely available, enjoyed by many of the adults around me and almost portrayed as the birthright of any decent English man or woman. After all Churchill kept the Brits going by giving speeches fuelled by brandy and champagne. Would it be hyperbole to say my friend helped win the war?
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| Churchill was a Great Briton and a known heavy drinker - often drinking a couple of bottles of champagne every day but at the same time he abhorred drunkenness! |
A well known exchange between Churchill and Lady Astor:
"You, Mr Churchill, are drunk."
"And you, Lady Astor, are ugly. But I shall be sober in the morning."
And so it continued, social events, gatherings, end of term parties; everything seemed a bit easier and more chilled with a drink. This is probably something that many people can relate to; the role drink plays in lowering our anxiety, reducing our inhibitions and releasing our playful side. If things had stayed like that it would have been lovely and my friend would be one I'd be happy to have stick around for ever.
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| Reflecting yet again - but that Dusseldorf Alt does taste good! |
The trouble is this friendship started to change. It metamorphosed from a genial companion into a leather clad dominatrix. It started to suggest I could never have a good time unless he was around. He became a control freak with borderline personality disorder; "Oh, so you were going to go to that christening without me were you. Oh and using the old "I've got to drive" excuse? You know you'll need me later when you're stuck with those tedious relatives. And when people expect you to be funny? What's your plan then eh? Oh and how are you going to deal with social anxiety?" So you book a taxi and give in. But even more insidious is the way this friend started to make me feel physically. The mild hangover payoff of my twenties becomes three days of feeling exhausted, lacking energy and seeking the most carb filled, fatty snacks imaginable. In short the payoff becomes grim and no longer worth the brief moments of fun.
On the other hand there are times when the friendship still feels good. Retired, my friend and I still enjoy cosy evenings in together, a couple of glasses of rich Rioja watching a great film and that's fine, but evenings out? At 61 even a few beers down the pub can leave me feeling grotty the next day. My poor old retired body just can't process my old friend like it used to. This becomes mightily apparent when I have my two or three days a week without my friend. When this happens I invariably sleep better and wake up with more energy. In short my friend is not really giving me much these days. The payoff is no longer working to my advantage.
In January both this year and last, I tried the "dry January" challenge. I lost weight, blood pressure went down and I felt great. True I had to avoid pubs (which I love) and eating out in restaurants was hard without wine. I will do the same during the January 2107 but my dilemma for the year and onwards will be; do I say goodbye to my friend once and for all or do I say, "Look, I've grown up and it's not really appropriate to hang out with you all the time? We can meet up for meals now and then, but the days of partying are over."
Hey that's no way to say goodbye
So it's either thanks pal but good bye for ever or thanks pal we are going to be seeing a lot less of each other.
If my friend and I can accept a change in the frequency of our encounters maybe it's not so much an end to a relationship but about changing the terms of that relationship. It may be that we have related to each other in such a way over such a long time that the only way is a complete break. That is what I have to decide in the coming year. Being older and with my friend taking an increasing toll on physical health as you get older now is the time for a re-evaluation.
But hey ho, right now it's coming up to Christmas and my friend is in great demand. He's suggesting a night out with old chums in London tomorrow. What a tempting offer. December is not the time to break up with my friend; a week before Christmas, he'll be devastated!
Great - my "friend" has just reminded me that we have to go and do the big Christmas shop before Going to London and he's only gone and put gin at the top of the list. What a rascal he is!
Feliz Navidad Everyone
Here's hoping 2017 is going to be better for the world than 2016
