Trying to some up what John meant to me in a few short paragraphs is incredibly hard, and not least, because his delight at jettisoning social expectations meant many of my memories of our time together; are borderline incriminating.
He was one of the first people I met when I joined the University and my desk was right next to his. I am not sure what my first thought of him was, but I do remember how he had turned his side of the divider into a veritable nest of IT hardware and toys. I spotted a PDA on his desk that I always wanted when I was a kid and when I mentioned it, he just handed the thing to me with a charger to keep. I think it is safe to say presentation was not his priority, the stain underneath his chair is still in 10.23 to this day, but that was part of his charm.
John was just really engaged with everyone, happy to talk, to share an anecdote (or more likely a pedantic clarification). Every time we talked it felt like we were in a double act, we could just respond to each other’s jokes or jibes so effortlessly. On the surface it could appear John was a little guarded; he would be comically dismissive of processes, procedure and professional expectations, his favourite line to say to me when he left work for the day would be a quote from Futurama "Well, I am sick of this room and everyone in it" before leaving. The truth was despite the bluster he really did care about those around him. He routinely sent me funny images he found, would visit me and go for walks when I was feeling down, and for years would wait for me on my walk home so we could leave together. Even during the early days of Covid he dropped me a call to see how I was doing.
Ultimately though, what I remember him for is not the benevolence, the technical acumen, the walking encyclopaedic knowledge of useless facts or his vast collection of toys… it was just how much FUN he was.
I remember when we used to sing songs from South Park, or made our own Christmas Carols based on servers we worked on, or when I tricked him into watching Rick Astley’s “Never going to give you up” by claiming my tablets screen was broken, or when he showed me the cartoons he drew, or when he lectured me on Comic Sans MS so I kept sending him emails with hidden sentences in that font. Pretty much every moment we spent together was a blast and he really did spend his all too short time in this world bringing joy to those around him.
Trying to some up what John meant to me in a few short paragraphs is incredibly hard, and not least, because his delight at jettisoning social expectations meant many of my memories of our time together; are borderline incriminating.
He was one of the first people I met when I joined the University and my desk was right next to his. I am not sure what my first thought of him was, but I do remember how he had turned his side of the divider into a veritable nest of IT hardware and toys. I spotted a PDA on his desk that I always wanted when I was a kid and when I mentioned it, he just handed the thing to me with a charger to keep. I think it is safe to say presentation was not his priority, the stain underneath his chair is still in 10.23 to this day, but that was part of his charm.
John was just really engaged with everyone, happy to talk, to share an anecdote (or more likely a pedantic clarification). Every time we talked it felt like we were in a double act, we could just respond to each other’s jokes or jibes so effortlessly. On the surface it could appear John was a little guarded; he would be comically dismissive of processes, procedure and professional expectations, his favourite line to say to me when he left work for the day would be a quote from Futurama "Well, I am sick of this room and everyone in it" before leaving. The truth was despite the bluster he really did care about those around him. He routinely sent me funny images he found, would visit me and go for walks when I was feeling down, and for years would wait for me on my walk home so we could leave together. Even during the early days of Covid he dropped me a call to see how I was doing.
Ultimately though, what I remember him for is not the benevolence, the technical acumen, the walking encyclopaedic knowledge of useless facts or his vast collection of toys… it was just how much FUN he was.
I remember when we used to sing songs from South Park, or made our own Christmas Carols based on servers we worked on, or when I tricked him into watching Rick Astley’s “Never going to give you up” by claiming my tablets screen was broken, or when he showed me the cartoons he drew, or when he lectured me on Comic Sans MS so I kept sending him emails with hidden sentences in that font. Pretty much every moment we spent together was a blast and he really did spend his all too short time in this world bringing joy to those around him.
