How can you tell your real friends?
I think that it is when you can talk about anything without them judging you and they will support you regardless.
At the weekend, I skipped off work on Friday, packed the tent and my keyboard into the car and drove round to Ardlamont point for a weekend camping and catching up with some friends old and new.
Jim and Tommy are my best two mates from my school days, although this being Glasgow, we played together, fought together, went dancing together but went to separate schools.
Jim and Tommy are “proddies” and I’m a “kafflik” .. or was at some point before the education of life made me laugh at the foolishness of believing in man-made religions.
But if that works for you and provides comfort, support and a sense of community then you go for it, don’t let this educated pagan put you off.
Jim, Tommy and I have only been back in contact for a few years and a lot of life had happened in the meantime .. the first time we met we crammed 25 years of life into a 2.5 hour car journey from Glasgow to Tighnabruich .. then carried on as if we had never been apart .. that’s real friends for you.
Through Jim and Tommy, I’ve met quite a few other guys, some of the guys come to our houses to join in our jam sessions, some I only see on our camping trips, but all good guys.
The other night sitting at the fire, we were having a jam and a chat until the early hours, a couple of drinks, relaxed surroundings and good friends and people open their hearts and minds more than they would under ordinary circumstances.
There were many stories told … some funny some much more serious.
One of the guys was talking about the depression he suffers, a dark subject, not one that you would admit to just anyone.
Its fair to say that the support was unanimous, If someone opens up to feeling depressed,, if they have the courage to open up and tell you about the things that haunt them then the least you can do is let them talk, let them get it out and offer the support if they ever need to talk in future..
One of my best mates Jim finally admitted to being a Rangers supporter and season ticket holder. I told him not to worry that we were still friends and with help, support and education, he might get over his obsession.
My own story .. or confession .. was that one time I was in a gay bar dressed in a basque, stockings and high heels dancing the night away then walked back to the hotel carrying my heels like a girl!.
The strange thing was, although the boys all laughed, no-one actually asked what I was up to at the time!
Maybe they’ve always suspected! 🙂
The pic is from Ardlamont Point looking over towards the isle of Arran.
The real story of the gay bar occasion is on here somewhere … which reminds me The Rocky Horror hits Glasgow in a weeks time so better start prepping.