Although essentially somewhat a loner, I have always appreciated friends, especially when younger. A friendless childhood is painfully lonely and probably stunts development. I wasn't a joiner. If it was a gang, then I set up my own for others to join, until the novelty wore off. I didn't join the photographic society, I took it over and helped create and run the film society.
Friends are supportive, interesting and lots of fun. Usually neighbours, school friends and even cousins. You come together through proximity and regular contact. You share common interests, like bicycles, TV, games, music and problems.
I was fortunate enough to have the right skills to do well in the 11 plus exams and was told I could choose any secondary school I wanted, but the one I chose was the one that most of my friends were going to, which, fortunately for me, was a grammar school. I had plenty of other friends, but I never saw them again, apart from one who I met at a party some years later. I started talking to him, pleased to see him, but he only replied, 'You talk different. Posh, like.' And that was that!It was a revalatory moment. It wasn't that I had lost my working class South London accent. My language had changed. I was being groomed for university and 'secondary modern' schools, predating comprehensive education, set less academic goals, expecting most to leave at the earliest opportunity to seek work.
By then, most of my old schoolfriends had faded from view and new relationships developed in a way never to be repeated after we finally left school altogether and all together. Diaspora. I went to Spain, some went to university, others gained employment. One died in a plane crash. But the bonds between us were strong and forming new relationships of that quality proved difficult, so we somehow kept together, until women, and then children broke us apart.
In a classic move, I was seduced by the girlfiend of one. Things were never the same after that. The final divide was children. I simply could not carry on for long with my friends who did not have children, all but one of them, but I had plenty of time for people who did and lived locally. But these were utilitarian relationships. An 'adult' world of sharing the trials of child rearing, in which we had no training or preparation, child minding arrangements so we could escape the burden for a quick meal out round the corner and a supply of playmates for our bored kids.
But it was all rather thin. When it became obvious that my marriage was breaking up, they all fell away. No longer a member of the happy families club!
I had good friends at various jobs, but few persisted when I moved on.
Perhaps a good measure of friendship is those who make the effort to support you in a crisis. I found myself in hospital with severe facial injuries. Who came to visit me? My eldest daughter, my son, my partner (girlfriend is a term she won't accept, which is fair enough, as we are both divorcees with children) and 2 friends, who were former work colleagues. One of these has since moved away and the other refuses to return my calls since I cancelled a meeting at a pub due to tiredness caused by the after effects of anaesthetics.
When I was self employed, I discovered the joy of business relationships. They are so clear cut. You solve a problem for them and they give you money. If they like what you do and what you charge, you have a regular customer. When they don't need you anymore, that's it. A clean cut.
The longest friendship I ever maintained ended badly. I met this guy when we were 16 and we had mopeds. Actually he had a moped and I had a Honda 50, which had no pedals and went faster. This was a fundamental aspect of the friendship which was to last 35 years. Eventually his work took him to live in Italy, with his wife, daughter and dog. We kept in touch by phone and I proposed to come and visit him. He kept deferring the date, on the grounds of having lots of visitors, but in the end I insisted a date in the autumn and booked the ferry. Before I left, I left him a mobile phone message to say that I would be on my way by car within 48 hours and would see him in a few days time.
I got no reply, assumed all was well and set off on the long road to Italy. On the third day, I rang him to say that I would be with him that day and was told there was a problem. I had planned to stay for a week, but he had to go to England on business. That was an obvious lie. He clearly didn't want me there at all, but lacked the guts to tell me, and the reason. I stayed just 2 days, all was well and convivial and I returned to England, when my mobile phone kicked in again. There was a belated message about this 'problem' sent after I had crossed to Europe. I exploded in anger.
For the next 10 years I was unable to contact him. Why would a close fiend of 35 years act like that? I rang his mother, who said that he had moved to Portugal, but it was clear that she had been instructed not to give out contact details.
Then one day, in a car park, a woman approached me asking for directions. It was his wife. I was overjoyed to see her and she seemed pleased to see me too, although she did not immediately recognise me, as I had grown a beard. We talked a bit and she said thet had returned to England to look after his mother. I asked why he had cut off contact and she said she had no idea. She gave me her email address.
Months passed and eventually I sent her a message, asking her to get her husband to explain. I got a reply.
'You specifically said, in front of my Jewish wife and daughter, that all Jews should be taken out and shot. That is why I cut you out of my life.'
I was astounded. I had no recollection of saying that. My father was Jewish, on account of his mother being Jewish, although my mother wasn't, so technically I am not, but I had lots of Jewish friends and was invited to a ba'mitsfa. They used to say that the best anti-semitic jokes were invented by Jews. My father was a prisoner of war in Germany and they didn't know he was Jewish, but if they had, I would not exist. This was not a satisfactory explanation at all. It was insane. There had never been any indication of hostility from his wife, far from it. Are, there it is. Chercher la Femme!
It is said that men like the the sound of the female voice, but they trust a man's voice.
So, virtually friendless, I progress down the vale of years. Friends? Sod the buggers!
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