A decade ago Pullyman - aka Michael Cowin - was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, a condition that affects people in different ways. Michael discovered writing and Island Life is featuring some of his musings. Sometimes topical, sometimes nostalgic, read about life as seen through the eyes of Pullyman

You know what I mean when you find yourself standing in the pub with a few friends and acquaintances, a small whisky in one hand and a sausage roll in the other, and remembering the old friend whose funeral you have just attended.

’Say what you like,’ someone says. ’He was a hard man’.

’That he was,’ said someone else, and joined the chorus of nods and agreement from the rest of the group.

Now I must point out that in the Isle of Man, when someone is called a ’hard man’, this is a conformation of his good standing and his good nature with his friends and neighbours.

It means that he is a bit of a wag.

Someone who occasionally comes just a bit close to the edge of the rules than he should, but who would never cross the line.

But if you used the same words in Liverpool or London, you would be describing a tough guy. Someone who had to be treated with caution.

But now we’re all getting older.

Hardly a day goes by without hearing some unwelcome news about a friend or colleague who has been diagnosed with something horrible or, even worse, something lethal.

In fact I think it’s a reasonable conclusion to reach, that sooner rather than later we will once again meet the same, ever diluting, group of mourners.

And, even more to the point, sooner than later, it will be you or me who will be the focus of attention when the sausage rolls and small whiskies are being enjoyed.

If we asked a random group of shoppers in Strand Street,’which is the first page they turn to in the Manx Independent?’ I think that the answer would probably be the obituaries (or hopefully, even this Pullyman page).

I suppose that the most obvious (and worrying) statistic to stand out from the list of the late departed, is that the majority fall into my age group, those of us in the late 70s and early 80s.

The other stand-out eye-opener is the cause of death. ’Suddenly,’ or ’after a short illness’.

Our remaining school contemporaries really are a dying breed.

Statistically, we are on the slippery slope and there really are not many of us left, so mind how you go.

If you remember, we started this little chat with a comment on ’hard men’.

An alternative, and probably more often widely used name, would be ’character’. I’m sure that we can all recall or indeed still know quite a few characters.

For example , if you hail from the St John’s area, you must remember Frank Ballard, now sadly long since gone.

On spring and summer Saturday afternoons, Frank would cycle to Douglas with the baskets on his bike loaded with bunches of spring flowers.

He must have been about 60 but he never looked any different.

I don’t ever remember him calling into our shop at any other time of the year but, without fail, on these seasonal Saturday afternoons, he would just materialise, carefully select a few bunches of flowers from his stock, lay them on the counter for approval and wait for the question: ’How much do we owe you this week Frank?’

This routine went on for years until one spring he vanished, never to return.

Frank was a character.

Apart from his name, I had no idea who he was, but I’m sure that he would be missed by many.

How many characters do you know? Think about it, the list may be longer than you realise. Characters come in all shapes and sizes.

They can irritate or amuse, they come and they go. One persons character might be a boring old man and another persons character might be President of the USA.

Some time ago, Pullyman - aka Michael Cowin - was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. Sometimes topical, sometimes nostalgic, read about life as seen through the eyes of Pullyman. Mike is taking a break for a couple of weeks, so here is one of his favourite columns from the previous years.