A Little Sombre

Yesterday I attended my first gay funeral, rather incredibly. I guess I'm of the generation just behind the first AIDS generation, and as such I've been fortunate enough, because of the advances in medication, not to lose friends to the disease. But yesterday, as around 150 guys I knew filed into the chapel, I started to have an idea of what it must have felt like in those bad old days when peer-groups were literally decreasing in number by the week, when groups of friends were decimated.

The funeral was an odd experience. Most of us are only used to seeing each other in bars and clubs, possibly not looking our best, so it was strange seeing us all in suits and ties looking very respectable. And looking very similar too - a sea of dark suits, cropped hair and beards, we made quite an impression walking through parts of London in large groups, our numbers swelling the closer we got to the chapel, a little clone army out in the Spring sunshine.

Of course afterwards we went to a bar and got drunk, and then our little army split into groups to go our separate ways. Our way (The Boyf and I, plus OMB#1 & 2 and assorted others) was to a rib restaurant to eat loads of meat, then go back to OBM's place to drink some more and reminisce.

All I keep hoping is that this isn't just the start. That there will be no more deaths in my peer-group for a good long while. And I keep thinking that this little army of ours shouldn't be waiting for a death to come together like we did. There were so many things said about our dead friend in his eulogy that I never realised about him, fascinating things that I wished I'd asked him about. And now the chance has passed. We deserve to get to know one another better than we do.

Have a good weekend, Dear Reader.