Moving on

It's incredibly strange starting to write a new post here after the last one about Paul. I'm still in shock at his passing and can't even begin to imagine the pain his family and loved ones are going through right now. I have been speaking to many of his friends and colleagues over the last week or so and I think the hole we are all feeling is only going to get bigger. He had such an impact on so many lives, personally and professionally.
I had an interview last week and going through my portfolio was a painful walk down memory lane as the majority of the projects, and typically the best ones, were made working with Paul.
It's a truly sad and difficult time. However, Paul wouldn't want this sentimentality. He wouldn't want so much sadness, and I'm sure he wouldn't enjoy all the attention.
Over the last few days Ian has been sending over funny stories about Paul. As he is a much better writer than me and with his kind permission (I hope!) I thought I would post some here:

"I remember many mornings when we'd been up all night and Paul had to burn the CD-ROM on the Mac to send off to the BBC (using that 'only CD-ROM burner in North London', which cost 1,950 quid or something), and he'd go through his strange rituals to ensure a 'good burn': emptying the recycle bin five times exactly before starting, stroking and patting the burner to earth away any static, and getting a bit short with the cleaner for daring to Hoover lest she corrupt the data.
Still, he was probably right and it was only his rituals kept us from data disaster. It's just that waiting six hours to burn a disk used to drive me a bit mad.

Then we'd go to the pub, for a half."

"One night I dragged him down to the White Lion for lasts, and afterwards I started hammering on about going to see Independence Day, which had just come out. He said he didn't want to see it, but I knew he was a sucker for staying out late anywhere (2am fry-ups at Smithfield's spring to mind), so I kept on and told him I'd heard it was meant to be one of the best films ever and he'd regret not being one of the first to see it.
So we ran up and down Old Street trying to get a cab, and I grew ever more fretful as they all grumbled past with their orange lights turned off. I persisted and we got one just in time and made it to the midnight showing at Leicester Square.
A couple of hours later we remained seated in the cinema as everyone else filed out. I turned and saw he had his head in his hands, and he was very still. I felt really bad and didn't know what to say.
Eventually he shook his head rapidly from side to side and said, "Oh, sorry, I thought I just saw the President of the United States fly his fighter jet at a huge alien spaceship and destroy it and save the fucking world." "

" Paul asking me to proof-read the software review he wrote for Mac User before he submitted it, and telling me to ignore the complete absence of punctuation because he no longer believed in its pointless clutter."

" Similarly, Paul giving me a load of books to take to Greece and telling me to keep them because he no longer saw the point of novels because 'they're stupid and I suspect they're just made up'. "

" Richard and Paul having a screaming fight at the Camden studio, which nearly came to blows. Paul's climactic howled defence: "Big Ears does not look fucking stupid, Richard. YOU look fucking stupid!"

" Richard telling me about the band they got together in which Paul was the bass player. The band was called 'Where's Paul?' because he only ever showed up a couple of times."

" The time he came into a pub and held out his hand for the office key, at which point the landlord ran over and told him to piss off and stop begging in his pub. "


And there are many, many more. I'm looking forward to hearing the others. It's good to remember the uniqueness of the man and I feel grateful for the privilege.

I'm sure there will be many people saying that.

And I know there will be quite a few halves drunk too.