In memory of Sid Roberson

In memory of Sid Roberson (1937-2016)

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In this current social media era of PDGs (public displays of grief) I am a little apprehensive about joining the fold but Sid Roberson was a man who was just too fucking cool to go unmentioned.

Championship body builder, star of Strongbow campaign in 70s, art director, photographer,  tv director, film director, socialist millionaire, political academic..he was all of these things and excelled at all of them but most importantly to me he was my friend & I loved hanging out with him. He was very funny, very intelligent and had the best stories of anyone I have ever listened to. There are way too many to go into and involve mostly unmentionable jaw-dropping tales of debauchery but one of my favourite was when he was personal trainer to Reggie Kray in the 60s (I shit you not) and he said he used to call Reggie a ‘fat fuck’ as he did sit-ups which would crack up his psycho bodyguard because there was no-one else on the planet who had ever spoken to Reggie like that. That was Sid all over. He didn’t give a fuck. This is me. You deal with it.

He actually got through life saying what the fuck he wanted to whoever he wanted, regardless of who they were or what they could do for him. He never looked up or down at anyone and never compromised himself ever and even though he was blunt as fuck to everyone in his life, people loved him for it. No-one has probably ever been ruder and more liked in history. He got away with it  mainly because he wasn’t being malicious, he was just being straight up and took bare faced honesty to somewhat of an art form.

But one of the reasons he also got away with it is that he was as honest about himself as he was about others. Not even he escaped his own bullshit free observations. Sid was a major body builder back in the day and was built like a brick shit house most of his life. As he became more infirm his frame shrunk but he still always looked like he was carved out of granite. Even just a couple of  months before he died he had a push up bar installed in his house and was still working out regularly.

But inside this fairly scary very tough exterior was hiding a very fragile man and as his illness & age swept away his physique it revealed more of this person. Even though few would ever have been aware of this he never tried to hide it from me which I considered a privilege. He was always very upfront about his anxieties and fears and he had in fact battled with them all his life but somehow revealing his true vulnerability just made him seem stronger to me.

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I originally met Sid in the 90s as I got a job working for him  but it was only in the last five years we became really close friends. He lived local to me and as he was essentially housebound, we hung out at his all the time and I always loved going round there. Being both photographers & directors as well as both being ardent atheists and socialists we had quite a lot in common and had great conversations & debates about a shitload of stuff. He was a very argumentative opinionated fucker which is probably why we got on so well.

As a person he taught me one very important thing. He taught me to just get on with it. Don’t talk about it. Just fucking do it. He was incredibly supportive and  would do anything he could to help you. He helped me get my first film made. It simply wouldn’t have happened without him and this was while I was working for him. Who helps an employee kickstart a new career while they already supposedly have one on your payroll? Sid did and at his funeral yesterday, I spoke  to other ex-employees, now devoted friends, who he had supported and inspired in equal measure.

When I told some people a friend of mine had died they looked horrified and sympathetic and when they asked how old they were, and I would tell them, nearly 80, you could see their face soften a bit as if it wasn’t so much of a tragedy. Good innings and all that shit but the truth is you don’t like someone more or less because of their age and you certainly don’t miss them any less. You are upset because you will not see  or talk to them again, it doesn’t really matter whether they had a long or great life (of which he had both), there is now just a big hole where they were and that’s it. Whether it is someone’s time to die or not, it always hurts like fuck to those who were bound to them.

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We form very strong emotional bonds with people, we intertwine ourselves with those we love and it is very difficult to unravel those connections without a lot of pain & that is why death is such a killer (no pun intended) but there is sadly no way round it. No-one gets out of here alive. The true irony of existence is that the one thing we all pretend is never going to happen is the one thing that is definitely going to happen. It is the one certainty of living and yet we can’t take it on board because to think of ourselves or our loved ones no longer being here is just to hard to bear so we don’t.

Sid Roberson rinsed life to the max and whatever came his way, he took it all on the chin. He really was a fucking legend. One of the greats. A true one-off. I can’t do him justice here but understand this, the world is a seriously duller place without him.  This goes out to all those who will miss him, especially to his family, who he adored more than anything.