I’ve been best friends with Mark since I was five years old. That’s 57 years of friendship. I can still remember meeting him on my first day of primary school. There was a whole class of kids I could have bonded with, but he was the person I connected with. Who knows why, but we clicked instantly. We laughed and we played. Humour. That came first, everything else came after. All of the loyalty, the memories, the cherished milestones, the things we did together, the fun we’ve had, the tears we’ve shed. A lifetime of love and friendship, a lifetime of knowing I had someone who loved me like a brother and who would do anything for me, and I for him. That’s a precious gift. It’s one of the great truths of human existence. The bonds we share. The people we connect with, the memories we make together. But it’s humour more than anything, that lubricates the wheels of our friendship. Yes, loyalty and honesty are important too, but when I’m with Mark I laugh, and that is a magical ingredient in life. I remember the cassette tapes we used to make, the fake interviews we used to do with sports celebrities, the dares, the Sills, how funny our families were, Big Mrs D, the nights we stayed over each others houses, Derek Nimmo, Oliver Hardy, ‘Get to bed Mark’, the first girlfriends, our first dates, my first kiss with Sandy, our camping trips, the potatoes rolling down the hill, that bingo breakfast, Ray reciting theme songs to kids TV shows, the fish tank, Flo, our nights out, our school days, our walks in the park, the band we had together, I’m Screaming Set Me Free, the films and TV we loved. So so many superb memories. No drugs or excessive drinking were required. Just love and laughter. Just us. Me and my best mate Mark.