Ian, one of my oldest friends, is the area manager of a gay ‘lifestyle’ chain (AKA licensed sex shops – don’t tell his mother). The filthy smut flies off the shelves as the filthy lucre fills the tills even during these recessionary times. Well, people stay in more and make a meal of it.  Despite his status as purveyor of porn to the Grindr generation, Ian is an off-fashioned boy with the Nineties hairdo to prove it. He shuns the modern world of instantaneous communication for a more leisurely discourse – snail-mail rather than e-mail, hand-crafted notes rather than instant messaging. Even his flip-top phone belongs in the Science Museum. He’s particularly scathing about Facebook, seeing it as the work of the Devil. I picked up this postcard and sent it to him. I wrote, “I saw this card and thought of you.”

Facebook

A couple of days later I received this card in the post. Ian had written, “I saw this card and thought of you.” Touché!

Gayer than

Imagine the absurdity of two openly gay, married, middle aged, middle class men escaping the liberal sanctuary of anonymous London to relocate to a Muslim country. I chronicled our exploits with the mad, the bad, the sad and the glad in a blog for the whole world to ignore. Then came the book which became a critically acclaimed best seller. Its success opened out a whole new career for me, firstly as an author, and now as an indie publisher. Who'd have thought it? Certainly not me. In June 2012, we ended our Anatolian affair and paddled back to Britain on the evening tide, washing up in Norwich, a surprising city in eastern England, then to the wilds of Norfolk as the only gays in the village. I’m sometimes nostalgic for our encounters with the hopeless, the hapless and, yes, the happy go lucky. They gave me an unexpected tale to tell and for this I thank them.

10 thoughts on “Postcards from Soho”

  1. Ah, I mourn the lost art of sending postcards and letters … it’s all too easy to whack out an email or IM .. and then they disappear into the ether. I’m going to have to search around Soho for some postcards of my own and continue the trend of postal-ribbing…..

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    1. Me too but it’s just so difficult finding the time. I bought my card for Ian for 30p in Paperchase right here in old Norwich Town. He probably got his to me with staff discount!

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  2. Procuring stamps is what keeps me out of snail mail, then walking to the mailbox, in sleet, rain, blistering heat etc. I like the convenience of e-mail because it matters little when I sent my message. The receiver also has the option of responding when it’s convenient. Ta da.

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  4. Every one needs a friend like Ian, or else we have nothing to prop on top of the mantlepiece, When was the last like you received a card invite?

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  6. Pingback: Once Upon a Time… | perkingthepansies

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