Raising Money for Pancreatic Cancer UK
I’m finally coming out the other side of the Coronavirus tunnel. Our house is a hotbed for it, though. Anna started the fire about 2 weeks ago, before passing the torch to me at the start of this week, and I have now inadvertently set my parents alight with the Flames o’ ‘Rona (not the most pleasant imagery – I apologise, especially to my family). As a result, the house is pretty locked down right now. My parents are both handling it well. In fact, had we not been testing frequently because of the recent confirmed cases, I’m not sure they would have bothered testing with the (lack of) symptoms they have.
Yesterday at about 17:00, Anna and I decided to walk Lucy along the canal to get out of the house for a while. I messaged my good friend Drew and asked if he fancied meeting up outdoors and having a beer once we got to the village he lives in. He and his girlfriend Em agreed, and it was settled. We sat there, having a beer, relaxing, soaking up the evening sun, and chatting to people as they walked past – mostly about Lucy. She’s still quite the head-turner, even if she has grown a lot in the past few months. It was a lovely way to spend a few hours in the evening, and it is the first time that this chemotherapy cycle has felt like it is truly subsiding.
I’ve been friends with Drew since early on in high school. I can’t remember how we started chatting, whether it was through a particular class or not. We had a similar taste in music at the time, so that almost certainly had something to do with it. What I do know is that he has been one of my best friends ever since. He’s taken on the challenge of running his first half marathon and is raising money for Pancreatic Cancer UK. You can find the link to his page here. He’s set himself an ambitious fundraising target but, if my Run 40 campaign taught me anything, it is to shoot for something impressive when doing these things. I started out hoping for £250 and ended up raising over £7000. A sizeable amount of that total was donated after Drew shared the fundraiser in a few local Facebook groups. I even like running so Drew deserves far more money than me, although I get the impression he is growing fonder of it. If you look at the Just Giving page, he’s also written some extremely charming things about me. Time for me to return the gesture and tell a few stories. Soon I’ll write a blog post about something other than nostalgia, I swear. Soon.
The walk along the canal that Anna and I did is nostalgic for me for two reasons. Firstly, I used to walk that way to work at The Broughton Arms, a pub located on the canal in Rode Heath. The pub has a big beer garden. As soon as the sun comes out, the beer garden is as busy as a dollop of jam next to an ant nest. I worked there for about 4 years, from when I was 16 to when I went to university when I was 20. Drew also worked in the kitchen as a chef. The downside of working at the pub was that it made you dread the sun, as that meant you were going to have the shift from hell. Even worse was when it was unexpectedly sunny because that meant that you didn’t always have the number of staff you need for the shift. That meant that you never got on top of most of the jobs during the shift, and you’d be there much later than usual making up for it. When this happened, Drew would turn the music up to 11 as soon as we stopped serving food, and we’d both run around the kitchen, cleaning the plates, mopping the floors and trying to speedrun the entire chore list. It takes a special thing to make you hate the sun, especially in England where the sun is rationed like meat during the war. That is just what happened when you worked at The Broughton Arms, though. Even when you weren’t working, the thought would occur to you every so often as you sat in the sun – “I wonder how brutal the shift is today,” you’d say to yourself, as you tried to enjoy your cold beer in the sun. You became conditioned to fear the sun. Our relationship was forged in that unique feat. I’m happy to say that I have recovered from this disorder now, and I’m sure Drew has too.
The second reason that the canal walk is nostalgic for me is that we used to go that way to get to Drew’s house when we were younger. His parents have a holiday home in Europe so would go away most summers. Drew’s free houses ended up having quite the reputation and we all looked forward to them all year. We used to hang around playing video games and drinking, with some of us practically moving in for the period. He had a miniature schnauzer at the time called Hugo. I’ve heard a trope that some dogs look like their owners – I feel like this was most true of Hugo and Drew’s dad, Harry. It’s hard to put your finger on why, but I’m going to attempt to describe it (probably at my own peril)… They both initially look quite stern and serious, yet as soon as you have spent 5 minutes around them you realise that they are anything but… I can’t wait to see Harry again and see what he thinks of that. Anyway. Hugo must have had no idea what was going on during those free houses – suddenly having a house full of strangers who never seemed to leave. It was great fun, though, and he used to get involved in it. One time, he was standing staring at himself in the pond outside, I assume pondering his existence like all normal canines do when they see their reflection in the water. I went to jokingly nudge him, but the wooden floor was wet and he actually slipped in. I’ve never lived it down, and Drew still frequently brings it up. The dog was fine, perhaps a little traumatised. I think that experience made him a better man. I have witnessed a few of our friends get in that pond before and they didn’t need pushing, so that is probably more worrying.
There was another time that we were at our friend Ben’s house drinking when we were about 18. For some reason, someone had brought some hair clippers with them and everyone was threatening to cut each other’s hair. As people got more intoxicated and lowered their inhibitions, there were more and more volunteers. Drew was not one of them. He resoundingly stated that no one was going anywhere near his hair. A bit later on in the night, Drew left the party to go and have a serious chat with his girlfriend at the time. They hadn’t been getting on very well, and things were on the rocks. Drew’s always worn his heart on his sleeve and can be quite an emotional guy, so we were expecting this situation to end very badly. He was quite drunk when he left, and he took a few beers with him for company. The next time I saw him was when he literally fell into Ben’s bedroom shouting “shave me” hysterically. It seemed he had decided that the best way to numb his emotional pain was to allow one of his drunk friends to give him a new haircut… Perfect! In case you’re wondering, none of us were barbers, none of us had desires to be barbers, and no one had each other’s best interests in mind when offering to cut their hair. The result is the below picture taken after a few people had fallen victim to the clippers. I have it marked in my favourites on my phone and frequently look at it when I need a cheap laugh at other people’s expense. It is a legendary photo. Drew looks particularly absent-minded in it.
He has come a long way since those days. The guy owns his own record label, has an amazing girlfriend who he has been with for a long time and is now running his first half marathon. He’s even got himself a normal-looking haircut, but it’s debatable whether that is a positive or not.
Sometimes you meet people that are so unique in the world that you know you’ll never meet someone else like them. Drew is one of the best examples of that I know. Every time I see him, he says at least one thing which completely blindsides me and leaves me hysterical with laughter. He has quite a reputation among my friendship group for his choice of diction. The way he phrases things is always genius and he delivers the words with passionate vigour. It’s extremely charming of him to choose to run his event for Pancreatic Cancer UK and I know he appreciates every penny donated to the cause, as do I. If you can donate anything and want to help beat this absolute shit-wanker of a cancer, please do.
Love you very much Drew – I’ll be there to cheer you over the finish line on the day!