Sinister: X

[Ian Anscombe]

There are days that catch the light,....days like diamonds.

A wise man said that once.  He also said "drink piss, to cool down 
your brain", but the less said about that the better.

I've probably lost half of you already.  Come back - I'm hoping the 
above will make sense later on.

So - I was going to write this in the style of a thank you note, but 
it was too hard.  But thank you, Sinister, for being ten, and for 
being here, still, after all this time.  And thank you Uncle Steve for 
organising it all, because I guess I took it for granted and didn't 
really think how much work it must have been until the next day.  And 
thank you sun, for shining, and if you'd like to do some more of that, 
maybe right after I've finished this mail, that'd be great.


So - I'm finding this harder to write than I thought I would, I guess 
because I've decided not to gimmick it, or try and make it funny.

Somehow, there's been this bond over the years, and it can be a 
strange one, because so much of it is through a computer screen - 
which means a lot of the time I see an edited you, and you see an 
edited Ian, and I try and plan the me I present...


Can I say something Sinikids?

This isn't a come on,

 well not really,

 well, p'raps a bit,

 but... you're far more beautiful in the flesh.  Tell you what, 
there's a park on a hillside, in a little British city...I'll meet you 
there in ten years time, if they haven't made meeting in parks on 
hillsides illegal.  We can sip tea, nibble on scones, and discuss how 
much better the last ten years were than the ten years before that. 
And then, when we're done, you can try and teach me how to cartwheel, 
because I still won't be able to do it, or you can try and show me how 
to play football, because I still won't be able to do that either, and 
I can roll down the hill, because that's pretty easy and anyone can do 
it, although not ending up on the pavement under people's feet is 
harder than you'd think.

When I look at these reporting back posts, there's always a bit of a 
thrill when you see your name - it means someone actually cared that 
you were there - and yet there's also that feeling when you don't, 
especially when the poster has written a long, long list of 
names...so, with the state my memory is in, I'm not even going to try 
that.  It was great to see you, all of you: those I'm priveleged 
enough to call my friends, those I get to know a bit more every time I 
meet them, and like, but time somehow sort of slips past, those I 
always seem to upset without really trying, those of you who have just 
been born and probably won't be reading this and the new friends I 
made that day, who I hope weren't too pissed off with my drunken 
ramblings towards the end of the night (I hope you'll stay in touch!). 
I know a lot of you meet under different auspices these days but for 
me these kind of events stay really special.

This e-mail was meant to be longer, and a different shape, but 
Birmingham calls, right now.  I feel like posting it anyway, 
incomplete as it is.  I'll be back with some ink polaroids later, and 
I'm going to continue being horribly earnest, because, well, I am 
horribly earnest underneath it all - but I think, hope, you knew that 
really, and that, in many ways, you liked that more than the drunken 
twat who's too pissed to operate a dj-thingy and walks barefoot 
through dog shit without even realising.  Don't get me wrong, that 
twat has served his purpose, and I'm grateful to him, but its time to 
let him go now.

Far too cryptic, probably, and no comment about diamonds.  Hell, start 
with a twee song quote, don't justify it, just put it there, why not? 
Come back when you've taken your anti-depressant and try again later.

Yep, those polaroids.  They're still developing.  Some of them are 
great.  I hope we can picnic again soon.  If nothing else, I've got 
some pictures, in my head, to show you.

xx
Ian 


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