Gimme a call You’ve got a phone Why don’t you turn it on cos I need to hear from you Do you know why?

An open ended question there from a singer and a song suggested by top music journo, Emma J (four bylines in three days!!!!! How good is that?) and for those of you who didn’t instantly recognise him, it was 19 year old Tommy Reilly, winner of the Orange unsignedAct 2009 with Gimme A Call, and he’s playing in Glasgow this week. Wonder what he‘ll look like in thirty years time, eh, Em?

Apparently, Vampire Slayer, he’s from Torrance. And bytheway, coming from my side of the Balmore Road, I still reckon the council dump is closer to you than to me.

But this is an amazingly important weekend for me in terms of dates. The blogmeister’s wee boy, whom we’ll call Small Path to protect his privacy, is two years old. And blogmeister, thanks for all your recent suggestions. Maybe I should be thinking launch party as well. Erik the Floodstalker, let’s talk. Why a party, Johnt850? I’ll reveal all later. But Happy Birthday Small Path.

No, it was exactly one year ago to the day when I had my leaving of the college where I taught (it’s a fairly loose word to describe my techniques) and many plans were made in Room 311, including the fabulously successful sticky toffee pudding night with four gorgeous young women (No. No innuendo. Too much respect) and many other plans were made and discussed. So far, so good (ish)…one or two still to happen, but I still dream.

I still say some guys have all the luck, but as someone down the ASDA this morning said to me, “If you don’t knock at the door, you’ll never get invited in.” I have no idea what we were discussing.

And I loved the newspaper report talking of a major drugs deal taking place at “an ASDA store in Summerston”. Um, there is only one ASDA store in Summerston and their three item breakfast on a Saturday morning with toast and coffee is a bargain. The crack cocaine on the side gag has been omitted. Simon Mayo would probably apologise before you had a chance to laugh.    

But it’s a year that finished in the company of other former students of mine. Step forward Richard and Oonagh who were brave enuff to tolerate me as their companion at the amazing performance of Comedy del Piero et Cacciatoria at the Ramshorn. (Glasgow Uny student actors) And well done to Cathcart Minor. (Can I just say the thespian gag does not work with male actors?)

Nice meeting your mum (again?) and Oonagh, how many cults do you have on your mobile phone (it’s okay BBC Al, my good taste pal, I used spell check) And the performance of the night?

The blouse that retained that young lady’s bosom, but only just. Every male in the house……..What? You mean she spoke as well? Wow, that is multi-tasking.

But before I mention my big event of the week, (No. No connection…just in case), can I break last week’s rule and say one final thing about the blook. Son Brian had only been given some chapters to read before he wrote his own. I didn’t want to spoil the ending for him, but I will for you, dear listener. I live. My gd frnd Clr contributed the final word(s). Mmmmmm…..

No, see the bit where I talk about the funeral purvey (I used to know a girl called Purvee. She never understood why I gave her the nickname Co-op and I wonder how many of you out there will). I actually mistakenly place it in a totally different hotel from the one where it really took place. Given the nature of the context, saying I was very drunk later in the afternoon, makes me feel incredibly small.

So, I’ll move swiftly on.

And given that it’s confession time, I might as well mention that in the latest edition of I actually write a piece that ends up in praise of Margaret Thatcher. Whatever happened to the Independent Socialist in me, Rainforest Riverman?

We know what happened to you. I mean, what does it take to kindle your passions these day? Seven-nil and you’re still behind on goal difference?

No. My big news is that my business, The Word Process, is being quietly launched, like, even as we speak. It is totally separate from this blog and will be announced elsewhere but Friday was soooo exciting. Two hours spent discussing insurance, then approving business card artwork, answering Oonagh’s texts (I’m not a cult, listeners, okay?) and an ASDA lamb casserole for tea. It, I later noticed, had red wine sauce. I’m living close to the edge, maybe too close?

No. I got a reminder during the week of my true status in life, apart from being badly dressed, Caitlin, when someone unknown to you, the listeners, and not that well known to me, leant over at an event and said “You still off the bottle, then, John? Me too.” A big shock for soooo many reasons.

But I’ve got to make the business a success. I seem to have promised employment to a graduate trainee for some time in the future. It gives us both a target, Missie K, altho’ I would confirm that that door I was knocking on earlier, can be opened to other people. The latter part of that sentence makes sense if you read it upside down. 

And on the serious cancerly front, I’ve missed the last three Thistle games cos I’ve been training to be a volunteer speaker type person for the Prostate Cancer Charity. Still a long way to go, but the idea is that I and the others can help at stands, do talks and stuff and maybe help folk become a wee bit more aware of what’s involved with the cancer. It could be colleges or universities, master bakers or major broadcasters, rich or poor…sorry I’m getting carried away. There’s a few folk do it.

Y’see, it is Prostate Cancer Awareness Month and in the middle of it I go for my next check up. My PSA levels (basic blood test) went up a bit last time (to be honest, if I’m looking for sympathy from good looking women, I say they actually quadrupled…….from 0.3 to 1.2, which is still well okay, but see if they go up again, then I might be looking for more sympathy.)

However, based on my training, I have a few questions to ask; like why did I originally get a test that no-one else seems to have got? I describe it in the blook, but either not adequately enuff or my gd frnd Clr is incredibly non-squeamish. After all she’s still talking to me one year on, as are so many people. It’s been an interesting twelve months. And I’m still here..sober and alive. Cool, eh?

I wonder if I know Tommy Reilly’s mum?



4 Responses to “Gimme a call You’ve got a phone Why don’t you turn it on cos I need to hear from you Do you know why?”

  1. Blogmeister Says:

    Sober AND alive? Now you’re just showing off!

    Mrs Meister and I took Small Path to Edinburgh Zoo for his birthday today; he totally loved it. Next time though, I’ll be booking tickets online in advnce – it lets you skip the 25 minute long queue!

  2. johnt850 Says:

    the then Mrs t850 and I took Son Brian to that zoo twenty yrs ago…….online was the queue…….but I’m glad he enjoyed it and maybe one day he’ll grow up to be a motorway.
    Sorry, it’s natural highs….they still confuse me.

  3. Cathcart Minor Says:

    Thanks for the kind words about my play John.

    ‘Comico Presents His Prostegiously Prostegious Commedia Del’Arte Troupe Performing Isabella’s Fortune’ was chuffed to see you there.

  4. Caitlin Says:

    my boyfriend is mates with tommy reilly, there’s my claim to fame 🙂

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