Being dead....

.... might be a surprise. And the reaction of your good friends
to this event might also be a surprise. Mostly we don't get to know
what this will be, but a long time ago I had a fair glimpse.

In 1963, after I was discharged from the Navy, (not totally
dishonourably, but not honourably either) I went to Aberdeen
to be a Great Painter. I'd read a biography of Modigliani and decided
that this would be the life for me.

In Aberdeen my best friend was King Wullie. He was called King
because he had a huge studio that he used mainly for parties: He was
like an Aberdeen Andy Warhol (though Wullie was the better artist).
Wullie was at The Art School. I wasn't. I was on the dole. When I first
signed on I told the man that I was going to be a great painter so I
wasn't really looking for a job.

He said: "You'll be safe enough in Aberdeen".

One night there was this huge Art School party. Wullie and I
trundled along and Wullie got into a quarrel with this wee fellow
(actually Wullie was quite wee himself, and I've never been
described as tall, mainly because I don't approve of tallness)
and I went over to see how things were progressing and suddenly
this huge monster appeared, a pal of the wee fellow, and started
picking me up and bashing me on the ground, over and over, then
jumping up and down on me.

After a while Wullie and some others carried me to a taxi and took
me to where I lodged.

Next day Wullie called by and I explained from inside the bloodstained
sheets that it was unlikely that I'd be going out that day.

Wullie went up to the Art School. All the folk that had been at the party
were standing around smoking.

"How's Donald?" they said.

"He's dead," said Wullie.

And although they all quickly said, "Oh God. Isn't that awful. What
a shame. Poor Donald." Wullie said there had been a gap, a flash of joy
across their faces. Wullie said you could see them thinking, 'Oh..... What
will I wear. I really do look good in black. And it'll be a murder so there'll
be newspapers. Reporters and photographers. Maybe I'll get to carry the coffin....'

And whenever I look back on this it cheers me greatly: Knowing that life
goes on, and that what seems like bad news for yourself is hardly ever totally
bad news for everyone else....