Legacy of a friendship
Back in 2018, when I was nearing my lowest point in many years, I was contacted out of the blue by a fellow with whom I'd exchanged some correspondence about The Avengers Forever, a website I'd built to celebrate a British television series from the 1960s. Sensing my anxiety and depression, he began to distract me with lovely photographs and random observations on his life in the UK. This then grew to become a years-long exchange that continues to this day.
In short, Ric Mac is a genuinely nice person, among the very few humans left on the planet who will kindly lend a hand to a stranger, with no expectation of receiving anything in return. He's also an extraordinary writer and very fine photographer—the first image he sent to me, "Gallop" (shown above, click to enlarge), remains my favorite. But most of all he's a cherished friend.
Here was a kindred spirit from half a world away with whom I shared a remarkable number interests. From our appreciation and love of the flora and fauna of the natural world, to film and music, we're cut from very similar cloth, even politically and professionally. It's perhaps no wonder we've maintained a long-distance friendship for years. Trust me, I positively ache to venture over to his neck of the woods and share a pint at his favorite pub!
Having accumulated many hundreds of messages from him, I've struggled to divine a way to share this extraordinary wealth with my readers. I'd contemplated publishing a book—actually two: one, a "coffee table book" providing a photo-tour of the British countryside; the other, a novelization of the heartfelt support graciously offered by someone I could never meet. Ultimately, my inability to choose between them ended my hopes of seeing either in print. So, I began slipping some small collections of images into David Builds a Home.
Then, without giving it sufficient thought, I created a whole new subsite and began publishing materials ad hoc, which only served to make matters worse: it became a jumbled mess with no clear organization or purpose. Not long afterward, I took it all back down with the intention of rebuilding the site once I'd devised a way to better organize it. However, as a consequence of being forced to move, the project was put on hold.
Finally, I decided enough is enough and wiped the slate clean. That's when I realized I needed to apply the KISS principle and distill it all down to its essence: words and pictures offered to entertain, encourage, and console. With this fresh new perspective, I built a whole new website having some seventy pages and over 600 pictures, which Ric spent weeks patiently editing and proofing.
I confess I became a tad obsessed about getting as much of it online as possible: I couldn't bear the thought of this treasure eventually slipping into nothingness after I passed, although I'm certain he'd argue it's not worth the trouble: in true British fashion, he habitually apologizes and modestly downplays his salient gifts—or, to use his own words, he's "a repressed Brit." But I certainly don't hold that against him! (Insert winking emoticon here.)
From the bottom of my heart, I thank my friend for this genuinely remarkable legacy, which has more than adequately served its intended purpose. My hope is that, by sharing it with the world, others will enjoy this extraordinary body of work.
—David
Your online presence speaks of your connection with, and understanding of, the beauty of the world. That ... is a fine thing. —Ric Mac |