The Tony Davidson philosophy of never saying goodbye

My friend Tony Davidson, who I haven't seen in over seven years, had this great way of never saying goodbye. He lived in Inverness, Scotland, where he was converting some ancient church in Beauly into an art gallery – even though he knew fuck-all about art. I was managing a hostel, and Tony, the owner's friend, was always around and always a little more jovial (sometimes belligerently so) than everyone else. Seems like every other week there was a going away party at the hostel, and he always cut out before the end of the night and all the drunken goodbyes. "I hate goodbyes. What's the fuckin' point?" Something about, hey, you'll either see the person again or you won't. You don't say goodbye, there is no goodbye. I can't remember exactly. But he had a point.