Paul's Funeral

Just in case I have missed anyone with the email out about Paul's funeral I thought I would post the details here. I know there are a hell of a lot of people out there keen on saying goodbye to our friend.
The Humanist service will be held in The South Chapel of the Oakley Wood Crematorium at 1.30pm on Friday 23rd February.
We'll then move to a favourite pub of Paul's in Stratford upon Avon called The Dirty Duck for some halves of lager and a couple of rollies to say goodbye properly.

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.

Paul Lamb

Today I lost a friend.

In 1995 when I started working in 'multi-media', as it was called back then, I met a curious fellow called Paul Lamb. He was one half of I.E Digital along with Richard Land. With another curious gentleman called Ian Armstrong they were producing some of the most innovative interactive media way before most people had heard of interactivity let alone pay for it.
Thanks to them I got my first break in the business and to this day it is still my happiest time professionally and creatively. We spent many long days trying to work out how to do this or that, in the days of 256 colour video, aliased graphics and before that thing called Flash. And for the most part it was bliss.
Granted we all spent a lot of time drunk and far too long in the studio but to the handful of us just out of college it was nirvana. We were getting paid to make mistakes. It was better than college!
Since then I've worked with Paul many times, and if I wasn't working with him he would be the first person I would ask about how to do things, who was doing that best, or if he was free to do it himself. He was probably the most creative person I have ever worked with and because of this he has probably forgotten more people in the industry than most know. None of them will have a bad word to say about him and the requests for his services will still be numerous.

Sadly, Paul died on Monday.

The feeling of loss is unbearable, I can only begin to understand the grief his loved ones must be feeling.
Apart from his unbelievable talent he was a completely unique individual. Evenings with Paul often consisted of many beers (but mostly drunk in a half glass as he was only staying for a half) and many cigarettes (only one as he had given them up) as well as an endless array of subjects discussed along with much eyebrow twisting and always belly laughter.
So much belly laughter.
I can see him pausing for thought right now, glancing around and then erupting with laughter.
I always thought that we would have more of those nights, I thought that Ian, Paul or I would get our act together and see each other more often or even stick to plans.
I guess we always thought there would be another time, I mean there is always another time isn't there?
I'll post some classic Paul stories next week, right now I'm struggling to deal with this massive void now and the regret that there are to be no 'other times'.

Rest easy fella, you deserve it.