I was lucky enough have Neal as my roommate for almost a year from late 1986 to mid 1987 as we were both sponsored university students by Rolls Royce (the part that made engines for military aircraft).   We both had to endure an appalling orientation meeting at Rolls Royce - I recall I said something like "oh for f**k's sake" at a juncture in the lecture that indicated that far from being almost over the lecture was just getting started. The person sitting next to me started laughing. That was Neal.  And thus a year long amazing friendship of drinking and laughter started.  

We ended up rooming together at the house of Mrs. Brains.  A real name of a real person.  We chose it because it was the cheapest place on offer by Rolls and said it included an evening meal.  How the lowerst price could be combined with the lowest price became evident when we discovered the evening meal was always a modest pile of slighty spicy, unnervingly dry spaghetti noodles devoid of sauce. Every evening. Which we dutifully ate in bemused silence under Mrs. Brains' gaze, until we got back to our room where we bonded over the fact that we were both appalled and amused in equal measure at our situation.  And then it got weirder.

A month into our residence Mr. Brains decided to take delivery of a large electic organ bought via a hire purchase plan that he preceded to play for over an hour at high volume after dinner. He played it so loud because Mr. Brains was very hard of hearing - he had to play at full volume to hear himself. It was so loud we could feel the carpet vibrate in our room.  Neal's reaction was to send home for his Amstrad music center, with it's oversized speakers, and before long at the start of organ music he would select one of his appalling heavy metal albums such as Molly Hatchet and we would sit there with it also cranked to full volume. Which would provoke Mrs. Brains to come to our room to ask us to turn it down as it was disracting Mr. Brains from his practice.   In my mind I picture Neal and I at the threshold of our shared room, Mrs. Brains raising her voice to make herself heard of the cacophony or Organ and Hatchett. 

At some point during a night after several such altercations with our landlady I think I said to Neal in the dark as we lay in our beds. "Neal, we have to leave." and he said "Yes, this simply will not do".  And one of us, as we shared a very similar sense of humour, I'm sure said "I believe we are unappreciated". 

Subsequently we moved to two other locations and spent many evenings at the Student Union getting rather intoxicated before stumbling home to wherever we were living. I believe the core of our relationship was simply trying to make the other laugh. It's amazing how well that can work.  

And as to why Neal and I didn't remain fast friends for life is a mystery. There was no falling out. There was no reason really. I moved to the United States in 1992 and only came home a few times for the first 20 years. And in those years the thread was lost. In the last few years we shared the occasional WhatsApp message. It's a matter of some mystery as to why the news of Neal's passing has so upset me. Strong bonds even if old and neglected still remain it seems.  I am full of 20-20 hindsight regret for not re-establishing a connection. But I can see from this wonderful site that he was not lacking in family and friends and certainly not someone unloved or unappreciated.