Dave was one of my closest buddies when I was just starting out in TV and he, Dan and I spent many lunchtimes, slacking afternoons and drunken Friday nights together. I even had one of my classic like-him-so-much-I-must-fancy-him crushes on Dave, though nothing ever happened and it was just because he was great and I liked hanging out with him.
The last time I saw Dave was when Max and I went to see the Polyphonic Spree with him back in 2002 and he's one of that handful of people I think about from time to time and always mean to get in touch with, but never get round to it.
It turns out that Dave died suddenly on the way home from a party the other day. At first the police thought he'd been attacked, but the autopsy concluded that it was heart failure of some kind. So I guess he must've been by himself and just found.
Dad has always said that the first time someone of your own generation dies is this massive massive shock and he's right. It's weird, because Dave and I haven't been close for ages and I haven't seen him for years, but it's still really shaken me. I feel a bit like when you know you need to sneeze but can't - I want to be really really upset about this, but don't feel I have any real right to, having not been in touch with Dave for so long. So there's just this weird nearly-sadness bubbling under inside me.
I'm really sad for him - he was a fantastically good bloke and a massively talented graphic designer - and for his family and girlfriend, but really pleased that I knew him - the first thing that springs to mind when I think of him is Fun.
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