Oh won’t you take a ride with me through the Barrowland history and I’ll sing you a song or two. People there may stop and stare but baby I just don’t care; It’s only me and you

As written and sung by the gorgeous Amy Macdonald and quoted in a smashing centre piece Sun colourspread earlier this week by one of the blog’s top pop pickers, Emma J. Nice one.

I’ve never been to the Barrowlands as a concert gig; loadsa student unions, the Apollo, the amazing Bungalow Bar in Paisley, various social clubs in places like Birkenshaw and Tannochside, last year at Loch Lomond, lots of pubs all of which seemed to be called Sammy Dow’s and a gay club in Stepps (eh?)* amongst many other places but never the Barrowlands. Maybe this year?

*For Facebookers…..black, but it was a long time ago and it was for charity (twice). And very willingly…..and how do I find out who would trust me with their life?

And yes, Missie K, I did get drunk with the likes of Ian Brown and Frankie Miller and attend various post-gig parties but the bestest (drinking) session, thinking about it, was with a lovely guy who died last year called John Martyn

And then I got married (aged approx 24/25). I don’t know. Maybe nine years. But she’s still my accountant. There’s patience for you. 

And then came Clatty Pat’s. Some of you may have seen a pic this week, in the Times of Evening, of people queuing to get in a few years back. Eh,…I didn’t queue. 😀 Moving on………just in case.

Except, like a lot of people, I didn’t do a lot of moving last week. Now if I was a normal blogger I would have a rant at this point but I think the gritters have done the best they could. First Scotrail? It’s the lack of accurate information that annoyed me and simply saying all the time, ‘due to adverse weather conditions’ is not good enuff. But that’s partly why I never made it to the game today. That and some work stuff. I have the West Wing refurbishment to pay for. That and the Network taxi that just skidded here in….(Aaaaargh! I almost named my cul-de-sac)

But a quick well done to Amy, Jaymi and Liz for opening up ASDA this morning given the conditions.

Stylistically I’m happy with due to as long as they mean caused by and not because of. (BBC Style Guide)

But I did get annoyed by the woman on the radio who said ‘we live far out in the country but luckily my husband has a four wheel drive’. No. It’s ’cause you live out in the country, you have a four wheel drive……it’s not luck.

And the woman who said, ‘The schools are closed. I have child care problems. I’ve had to phone my mum.’ I don’t know your mum but I bet she was delighted to be asked. You obviously don’t ask her often enough!

But favest story of the week was the lighthouse keeper’s wife who went, pre-Christmas, to Inverness for a turkey. Now deleting the obvous gags and limericks, listeners older than me just might remember a TV ad for (Knorr?) pea and ham soup in which the (simple) crofter’s wife went to Inverness for a ‘hen party’ and ended up watching the McChippendales! You don’t think……..

I once spent a very pleasant few days with a woman who claimed to be the actress involved. It’s a long but innocent(ish) story and one of those I wanted to believe.

But it’s television and cancergytis that take up most of the blog this week.

Firstly, a preview……….BBC 2 Scotland on Monday nights….the brilliant Limmy. Now if any of my, or my alter ego’s humour in the blog, in the e-mail funnies or on Facebook, worries you….don’t watch. And certainly stay away from his website www.limmy.com Could lead to a lot of ‘unfriending’ and deleting.

I love the character Jacqueline McCafferty, upwardly mobile (aye. right) and I love the fact that much of it was filmed in Scummy Summy, in the high rise flats just down the road from me. (All in process of being refurbished or just plain knocked down…I think they moved the people out first)

Limmy, apparently, calls himself an alcoholic but ‘was never addicted to booze’. I was. But Limmy came closer to suicide than I did. I just have mine planned. (Different plan Son Brian. You’re in the clear. Similar, ‘tho’, to Limmy’s attempt) His writing and blogging have helped him a lot. C’est pourquoi ce sera toujours ton appel. 😉

Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes. ‘Life is duality’…..George Lucas on The Daily Show.

TV. Aye. Last week I mentioned some journo movies coming up at the GFT here in Glasgow (hence the G) but this week saw a much better factional account of journalism 7.30 Days That Shook The World (Hang on. 7.30 was the time it was on) It’s the true story of a Sunday Times exclusive that went wrong (BBC2 Monday just past for iPlayer) and the fear when you broadcast/publish on the word of one person. Watch it.

Y’see journalism is a trade. It’s not a profession. You just need some tools and anyone can do it. To be good? See the words of Nick Tomalin (also a former Sunday Times journo, but not a journo I drank with). Google ‘ratlike cunning’, and then add these words, ‘and willingness to ask questions, not make assumptions.’

I was reminded of this, this week, when I went down to the Beatson to see a medical oncologist but this time not for me. It was a curious experience. The doctor came to meet me. (Oncology and doctoring are professions.)

This in a week when MacMillan Cancer Support talked of ‘the lasting impact of cancer and its treatment…… and some long-term neglect’. Y’see, whilst I think it’s marvellous that we have all these campaigns and fun runs and people grow moustaches and display their bras and stuff and it does raise a lot of money for research and so on, I sometimes worry if people still avoid discussing the Big C. I was very aware during my own sandblasting, of a wee while back, when folk obviously found it easier to talk down at the Sandblasting Centre than possibly with their partners and family. Buddies are not just from Paisley.

I just wonder if maybe it’s time someone did something like a radio documentary about, say, prostate cancer and maybe somebody has just got the go ahead to do so. All I know is it’s going to be a really emotional programme to work on. So far, so good, and I’ve only cried once. I’ll keep you posted.



Oh, and my fave description of the week? The darts commentator Sid Waddell crying a man losing as having the expression of a man trying to eat candy floss in a wind tunnel.’ 

Oh, and Amy MacDonald’s at Barrowland later this month. Naw. Too mainstream, as has been the music over the last few weeks. Any suggestions? Maybe Trailer Trash Tracys? Or Don Fernando? I’ll see what I can do.

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