I've been thinking about Les today, as I often do.What a great man to be in company with.I miss the film making exploits, the trips to stay at your mum's and go for a pint or three in your local working men's club.That giant wooden table you were so proud of, where, one day, you really would have gotten down to writing that masterpiece! I miss the nights at in Sheffield, the boozy meet-ups in London with Ken, Steve, Rob, Pete, Clive and the rest.Those stays at your flat on...was it Primrose Hill? - when I was stuck for a place to stay whilst auditioning for one thing or another down there.I remember, everyone knew you in the local, always had a "Hi Les!" for you, as ever.I remember that weekend you told me how you too were getting fit now, would be up early with me probably before to head out for an early morning run, do some weights...I couldn't get you up! Ha ha. I miss your wit, your intelligence, your working class values, yes. Your penchant for a quality tailor-made suit and good leather shoes.A class act in every way, Les.We had that great night at the theatre too with Pete, watching Peter O'Toole in "Geoffrey Bernard Is Unwell" (we all knew that particular brand of unwellness back then, when we sank endless pints just to help us breeth a little easier and take the edge off that knawing doubt about our fantastic artistic futures maybe not turning out to be quite as fantastic as we then had all hoped).Befores and afters in the real Coach And Horses.You always personified down-to-earth sophistication to me mate.You gave a shit about what mattered, and, like the rest of us back then, you had the guts to risk it all for something better.I'll keep thinking about you, as so many do, remembering that buzz of excitement when anticipating another meet up.Wherever it is, I'll be there.