“The mind can’t let some things rest…The issues keep burning away”
The joys of old friends.
A little bit of background here. Way back in the days before The Plastic Podcasts (lost in mist and silence), I fancied myself as a screenwriter and managed to wangle my way onto an MA course being run by the glorious (and patient) Phil Parker at the London College of Printing (its changed its name since).
In among all us wannabes and neverwoulds – and some who actually carved out niches for themselves was a curly-haired, urbane and polite gentleman by the name of Adrian Lunney.
I mention his politeness as a chief characteristic because I was at that time made up of 70 per cent arsehole, 40 per cent Guinness and 10 percent mathematical conundrum, but Adrian always took time out not just to sympathetically listen to my outpourings but actually engage with me.
Politeness, like kindness, are under-valued virtues. They aren’t treasured enough.
Fast (too fast) forward a couple of decades and he’s still being polite. More than polite: he’s an enthusiast. If you’ve ever looked at The Plastic Podcasts Facebook page, you’ll see that there is one name consistently first to “like” the posts and ponderings of this here producer-presenter.
Of course, it’s Adrian Lunney. My friend.
The thing is, I was so busy back in the Screenwriting day trying to be heard that I didn’t bother really listening to anyone around me. As a result, Adrian may well have told me his entire life story at the fag end of the 20th century and I would still have been none the wiser when he approached me to be an interviewee for The Plastic Podcasts as to what he had in mind.
I admit, I had reservations. What if it didn’t fit? What if it was bland? What if he had nothing to say?
After all, he’s an old friend. These are tough enough verdicts to pronounce upon strangers.
I needn’t have worried. Of course I didn’t. Adrian is not just erudite, he has a way with words that I frankly envy. He’s a born raconteur and displays a humility in his story telling that only serves to reinforce how good he is.
Under normal circumstances I use this blog post as an opportunity to put together some half-thought-through theory on the hour of conversation that accompanies it. Here, I make no such intellectual claims. It’s all there – in the interview. All you have to do is listen.
And all I have to do is say: thank you, old friend.