Old listeners of my decade-long radio show/podcast Daniel Ruiz Tizon is Available, will be familiar with the long list of regular characters who frequented/frequent THE café. It’s been a slowly evolving cast since I first set foot in here almost 22 years now, and usually I can pinpoint, roughly, the time I first encountered them. Most of the regulars, once here, never go anywhere else though I think this spring’s price hikes will really test that loyalty out. There is though, for now at least, still a lingering sense of community and the passing of a regular is always keenly felt. Often you only find out when you see their picture up behind the bar, usually in the form of a poor black and white printout.
Last week I became aware of the passing of Not Mick, via Algeria who I ran inti on Mawbey Brough. The two were tight, often sat here late mornings, arguing with one another, often the sign of a close friendship. You rub one another up the wrong way, the friendship sibling-like but when you lose that friend, you feel it. You feel it a lot. Algeria told me he can’t contemplate returning to THE café for now with Not Mick gone.
He was called Not Mick, just by me, because he was an absolute dead ringer both facially and stature wise for the Fleetwood Mac drummer Mick Fleetwood, even sporting the same long thinning hair and in Not Mick’s case, a usually well-trimmed white beard. He was also around the same age, mid-to-late seventies I’d say. Until recently, that is, when the beard became unkempt and through conversations in here between Not Mick and his acquaintances, I became aware that he was battling both diabetes and cancer. He had also been recently rehoused after a long battle with the council and it was increasingly evident that he wasn’t doing well, physically or mentally. The latter was one of the reasons why I always kept my distance from him as I’d seen him fly off the handle, spectacularly, with staff. Every time he tried to engage me, particularly one morning some six or seven years ago, on my next visit, I would look to shut down that familiarity and others, Algeria among them, warned me of how erratic Not Mick could be.
I can’t actually specifically recall when Not Mick first turned up here, but it would’ve been around a dozen or so years ago, around the time I also first encountered Future Me here. Not Mick quickly became a fixture here with his daily massive orders, sitting here for three or fours a day. Money wasn’t an issue for him, and in latter years, he would turn up with his distinctive red laptop IN ITS BOX. In all kinds of weather. I’d never seen that before, nor do I expect to see it again.
RIP Not Mick. Sleep well and I hope you find another café in the sky that gives you everything this place gave you.
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