Preoccupied

Had my mind on other things lately.

Scotty's sister rang me and asked if I wanted to speak at his funeral. ME! I found the whole idea very scary but I wrote something down and the man conducting the ceremony said he'd read what I'd written if I wasn't up to it.

I really didn't think I could manage it. So I told Brian, the man, that he'd have to read it.

When it came down to it no-one apart from this Brian - who was, no disrespect, the hired hand and had never met John - was getting up to speak.

I didn't think that was right, I mean I could understand his family was too upset to speak. And given that half the people there were over emotional Scotty looky-likey homosexuals who were sobbing loudly and visibly shaking and clearly in no fit state to say anything, I got up and said my bit because someone, who knew him and loved him, had to.

I'm glad I did. For John.