In reply to timjones:
> Did we say that it lacked merit?
Er... yes, actually.
'...a poor piece of writing.'
Look, let's leave the merit aside for a moment. One man's Everest is another lady's Brad Pitt...
Instead, let me tell you a story. It's 100% true, no hidden meanings, no funny stuff... promise!
I'm guessing the article was set in the late 1980s. I first met Grimer a few years later, when he'd moved to Sheffield. (I'm not claiming to be a mate and this isn't cronyism!)
Back then, there were a lot of people drifting through the climbing scene. Shortly after meeting Grimer, I was drinking with one of them. He was a lost soul. I don't mean this unkindly. Like many people drifting through, he was trying to find his way in life. And he was vulnerable.
I remember, that night, him saying that, totally out of the blue, Grimer had offered him shed-loads of hospitality in Derry. This guy really needed to get away from Sheff and clear his head. I hope he did; but I doubt it.
I can't remember the guy's name, or even his face. But I remember him saying wonderingly, "It's not as though he [Grimer] even knows me." And I remember the look in his eyes, that said, "Bloody hell, somebody cares about me."
Was there a payoff for Grimer? No. Social capital? No. It was an act of pure humanity. Do such acts make a difference? Absolutely! If nobody believes in you, nobody gives a damn and then somebody comes along and extends a hand of kindness, it can make a massive difference.
This isn't a clever story. It isn't a witty story. But it sure as hell is a true story.
So we can sit here 'till we fall off the couch (I nearly have!) and debate the fictional Grimer and the factional Grimer. The real-life Grimer? Somewhat different.
Mick