Liars

I have always had liars for friends, more so when we were all a little younger, but it's not like I jettisoned the distrustful bastards when I passed thirty, so most of them are still hanging about there somewhere. I don't understand it, I can't lie myself and certainly never to my friends, that's the point of having friends, no?

My best friend when I was in the final years of secondary school was a liar through and through, he'd lie about anything, I'd meet him in the one nightclub we could get into and Mod would tell me he was off his face on mushrooms or acid or booze when he was clearly sober as a judge. He told lies about the bands he had gone to see or if he couldn't make it out for something he'd tell fibs about meeting some chick. To this day he'll make shit excuses if he doesn't want to meet up for whatever reason, although I only see him about once every two years so it's not really an issue, but fucks sake all the same.

The truth of it is that the lies were totally unnecessary, Mod was by far the coolest guy in the school, for all his horseshit he really did go to Manchester and see bands, he really did have girlfriends from outside the school, from ouotside the town even. His sense of cool was unmatched, I owe him massively for saving me from my own dorkishness.

Mod took a shine to me for some reason and took me under his wing. I remember in fifth year of school, this was pre-transition year so I must have been about 15, our year did this lame 24hour wakeathon thing in the local community hall to raise money for a charity. Yes, that's right, one hundred odd fifteen year olds stayed awake all night for charity. And not for social dramatics and trouser riding at all.

Anyway, my previous social interaction with Mod consisted of the odd howya and him kneeing me in the nuts for a laugh once while standing outside a classroom waiting to get in. I didn't hold this against him though because I was a pussy and also because even after three years in school I still didn't know exactly who was who in my year and was never sure exactly who it was that had lifted me with that almighty knee of injustice. This inability to remember names or faces or events still troubles me but I have learned to let other people repeatedly fill me in on the finer details like their names and where I met them before. Also I have learned to knock the bollicks out of anyone that attempts violence on my person immediately so as to avoid confusion in the longer run.

I remember meeting Mod in a corridor that night and having an auld chat about bands and stuff. Grunge was just happening and  we were both really digging it, and the shoegazing scene and the Madchester thing also. Mod told me not to be wearing my shirt cuffs all buttoned up, they should be open and sloppy. He was dead right, and we were hanging out pretty solidly from then on.
Mod got me into bands that nobody our age had even the remotest clue about, like the Jam and Tom Jones. We were rockin out to Tom when he was pretty much the uncoolest person on the planet, Mod just had that ear for quality, he didn't have to wait for anybody's fucking period revival or semi-ironic comeback.
We were in a punk band too, Mod being the front man obviously. Looking back now I can't believe I squandered the chance we had to be really good, a front man like Mod was is one in several thousand at best, he could actually sing on top of the swagger, he sang for his leaving cert in music and nobody gave him shit for it because he was somehow above slagging.. But I fucked off to college thinking that nothing would change, because people are amazingly stupid when young.
He's a house DJ now, which makes little sense to me, I mean the stuff he plays is alright but lacks the solid balls and innovation of techno, and I never could get past the innate cheese of house, but sure there you go.

I think I finally tired of not believing anything he said and that probably had a big influence on why we drifted apart, I regret that because I went on to have quite a few liars for mates and learned to not give a shit about insignificant truths and untruths. As the Hairy Fella, a notorious and celebrated liar, has repeatedly declared "Jaysus lad, I wouldn't be the type of man to let the truth get in the way of a good story".
And I do love a good story.