Au Revoir, Le Enfant

So, last night I said goodbye to H, at least for a few months. The day we met he took me out for an indian meal, so yesterday I returned the favour. We drank in the same pub too. But this time he didn't get drunk and ravish me in my parent's own back yard.

His science-teacher sideburnless beard has mutated into a ginger Jason King moustache. He agrees with Simon M that I have the face and frame of an enormous baby. So perhaps I can say I'm 'cherubic' on gaydar.

Back in his room, all his stuff was in boxes - as is traditional, twice as many boxes as he arrived with. A room that I won't see again, above a shop that I cycled past for years barely noticing. We spoke of early childhood memories, emotions evoked by colours, and hopes for the future. And we had one of our good natured arguments that I've become so fond of - this time about what makes a war film a war film.

I hold that a war film must have a war or a battle as an essential part of it's plot, instead of just a backdrop. Therefore Black Hawk Down and Apocalypse Now are unambigiously war films, but The Great Escape isn't. The Great Esacpe is a prison breakout drama that happens to be set in a World War II camp, but could be set in a boys boarding school (with boys and masters instead of Allies and Nazis) or the planet Zog (with abuctees and aliens).

He maintains that war films are those set in situations generated by a war, even though similar situations could generated by other circumstances. Saving Private Ryan could have been about a basketball team saving a kidnapped heiress from evil tibetan monks, in which case it would not have been a war film. But the fact that it was set, not just during or a war, but within one, makes it a war film. So there.

We hugged, promised to keep in touch, hugged again, said goodbye, and hugged some more. And he watched me as I cycled off.
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Today I completely failed to fix Simon M's computer. When I arrived, it would only boot in safe mode. After running the recovery console, it refused to boot at all.

I was rewarded for my time by being introduced to eggs benedict (very nice) and the 70s adventures of amateur detective and insanely camp sexist pig, Jason King. Which apart from being wonderfully entertaining provided you watch it as a parody of itself, gave me a description for H's moustache.

I would let Simon borrow my laptop for a few weeks till he can get a new computer. But I'm still using the laptop because Paul T seems determined to keep it in his bedroom forever as he endlessly drags out the album recording process.

This evening was an extra impromptu session to practice and listen through what's been recorded so far. Seeing as everyone's sick of the project, we decided: no more recordings after sunday. After which I get to mix and master the damn thing. And take home my recording studio, probably in two taxis.