Feeling Forty and…

Well fuck me, I made it. The big fat and very round 4-0 . A milestone – that at times – I thought I may not make; and one, unfortunately, that not all do.

I certainly didn’t imagine getting here so quickly . In just over 21 million minutes of my life, I’ve slept for approximately 7 million of those. In the remaining waking 14 million minutes I have had a (healthy?) balance of learning, living, loving, and partying. I like to think, in one way or another: I’ve excelled in an at least some of those areas.

The weekend just gone I certainly excelled in the latter, if only on one night. Friday evening we had an old skool crew reunion at Bar Moda in Hastings. There were guest DJ sets from Sharpsta, Guzza, Simon One Stop and Scotty T who laid the soundtrack to a rather messy evening. It was so lovely to see so many friends, the majority I’m fortunate to have known for 20 years or more. Even Big Pappa Daniel made an appearance.

After copious beers , JD + cokes, and a few bottles of bubbly – some smart-ass decided to get shots, as they quite often do, and Jaeger Bombs were the order of the day; not too many mind…

I woke up early the next morning literally feeling death . It was true. This was it. This was what feeling forty really felt like; something considerably similar to a near-death experience. I’ve literally never had a hangover like it: I almost shed a tear.

After making whimpering excuses, whilst sniveling, to at least three of my compadres, I slumped back to sleep to try to forget the whole thing. Crawling out of bed around 4pm, I knew the remaining half of the birthday weekend mission – the Sterns reunion rave in Brighton – was going to be a challenge.

Meeting up with Geeza, and production geeks Eugene Glasgow and Scott Diaz, we went for a few bevvies before blagging guestlist to see Wax Worx (Mike Walterwall) warm up for the old skool legend Colin Dale. Entering the former Zap Club, now known as the Arch, it all came flooding back (in a blurry rave kinda way). They barely seemed to have painted it in 20 years, and – it’s a well-known fact that – some of the best clubs in the world are often like this .

Mikey played an awesome set full of old skool rave anthems revisited; plenty of building pianos , breaks, and hands-in-the-air moments all round. It was dark, it was sweaty, and it was exactly as it should have been.

One of the original junglists Dr S Gachet performed in (a much sweatier) room 2, and I met – although I didn’t realize it at the time – MC Flux (currently working with Chase & Status if you please). Colin Dale meanwhile went back to some acid house era I hadn’t known so well. The ravers in every direction were – in the main – older, wiser, wilder maybe. They were certainly more chemically abused and further into this journey we call life. But, crucially, they were still ravers god damn it! I can only imagine how the ones in 10-20 years will be.

From Brighton I hired some wheels to zoom up the M6 to see mother dearest in the Lake District. It was awesome to see the lovely lady for the first time in a year and spend some – albeit far too brief – quality time together.

I’m wondering if these next few days/weeks/months and minutes will include much time for self-reflection . As somebody who’s far from settled, my options – in some respects – are plentiful. Options are a good thing I’ve read, and written, somewhere.

My main objectives in life remain the same as that emotional day I left Thomas Peacocke School in 1995: work hard mo-fo, reach for the stars, party hard and have fun.

I will undoubtedly continue to learn, to read, to write, to dream, and most vitally to party my ass off until a time finally arises when I deem it completely unnecessary to do so. Forty is the new twenty they say, and who am I to disagree.


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