Make it last, Don’t let this feeling go away, yeah, yeah, yeah, Make it last, I need this frame of mind to stay, to stay. Make it last.

Warning. This blog may contain strong language but no adult or pornographic images…..which makes it exactly like Spartacus on Bravo the other night. What a droop that was.  😦 Hey, I did warn you.

So I did what everyone else in the West End of Glasgow did. I switched over to The Scheme. I’d already seen the first episode. For those of you, say in Engerlundshire, who’ve not seen it, it’s on BBC Aye. Right. Player. It’s made by two very talented doc makers who, when I last had contact with them, had an office in the Byres Road area. Might as well confirm the f**king  sterotype, now, but….  

Episodes 3 and 4 have been postponed ‘cos a 17 year old youth was committed at Hamilton Sheriff Court on Monday last week on charges of assault and intent to rob. He entered no plea and has been remanded in custody. His name? I couldn’t possibly publish but any UWS journo student will tell you, I’m sure. The Court is next door to them. He was due to be in Eps 3 & 4.

But we’ve missed nothing so far. It’s all talk and no action, other than Dayna getting smacked by a member of Marvin’s family….and didn’t the cameraman’s shadow look uneasy at that moment? Oh, and Kimberley (?) the dancer (?) winning gold (?) for her dancing (?). So far, it’s basically fifteen/sixteen year olds banging on about, well banging.

And Gordon, it’s easy being tough on your daughter. Shame you’re not the same with your bigmouth son, Chris! Tell you, this…if I ever see him in Beanscene, I’ll f**king tell the wee toe-rag (sp?). Mind you he did look angelic when younger (Check Candace (eh?)’s Bebo page).

Anyway, the serioulsy poignant moment for me gets menshed at the end of today’s blog. Oh, and to my Cumnock correspondent….thanks for the Ayrshire insight. You’re a good writer, btw. Keep at it. Writing, that is.

Oh, and today’s music? The band is Scheme. From Easterhouse. Early eighties, Nick? He remembers these things. Altho’ my alter-ego remembers them from a time when Radio Clyde and BBC Radio Scotland did roadshows and promo’d concerts and one day fests at Kelvingrove Bandstand and Auchinlea in Easterhouse itself.  A wee bit like The Wee Chill at Glasgow’s Queen’s Park this weekend but that’s south of the river…on the road to the Onthank Estate in Kilmarnock. (How Orwellian a name is that?!) I’ll maybe not bother, ffs.  

I worked as a community worker in E’house for a while, post grad diploma. Lochend Road. Drank in the Casbah. Wonder if it’s still there or whether it went the same way as the Caravel, the Royal Oak and the Provanmill Inn. Ah, the bodies. 😉

I think I’d better move on, before there’s a knock on the door. Let’s do housekeeping.

The conversion to vegetarianism continues, altho’ slightly more distance learning than ‘hands on’. (I’d better think about that line before publishing. I’ll go and have another virgin, Mary………..I’m back. I’m leaving it in. I need more celery salt, btw. Roots’n’Fruits, Byres Road.)

The Vampire Slayer has been quiet but has been working secretly and hardly for a mission which will take her overseas for  a while. (Updates’r’good, okay?). Missie K, e and W almost caused me textual problems on Thursday but I coped. Manfully. All at the same time. 🙂 W ?

(A mate of mine, a year or so since he finished his treatment for prostate cancer – brachytherapy – told me that he was arranging to go golfing with some mates, abroad, but he mailed details to his parish priest by mistake. The reply? ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for but you should maybe come and see me before and after!’ )

Dennis Hopper. R.I.P…..for all sorts of reasons.

And blogmeister, I look forward to telling the rainforestriverman he was eleventh. He’s not always been more successful than me, y’know. Ah, the laddish University tales I could tell. I have Max Clifford’s direct line. So does Kerry who’s the last Met Student from my era and about to finish there and truth to tell was……..(Oh, and Graeme as well, btw…..)

Workwise, it’s gone quiet. Some listeners may know that I/we put forward a commission to BBC Radio Scotland for an Investigation into why the streets are not safe for ‘women working as prostitutes’ of whom I know several, and in related work.  We didn’t get the commission. Someone else is doing ‘something similar’.

One of the things ‘Moira’ would have told us is what it’s like to have unprotected sex for seven to ten pounds a time several times a night and the fear of a smacking into the bargain. So ‘something similar’? I hope women like ‘Moira’ get a voice.

Chill it jt, chill it.

So I’m setting myself up, I think, as a Byres Road personal shopper. I’m not giving away any secrets by saying I helped e with the shopping for the child known as 16 lbs 7 ozs’s Naming Day. I got him a Partick Thistle strip………with 16 lbs 7 ozs on the back. The party was on an estate…….in Ayrshire. Actually, I think the estate was Ayrshire. It was the size of a small African country.

And if the Ivory Coast win the World Cup, I might build a conservatory. Apparently I’m obsessed. At one time in my life it was sheds and one C’mas, Son Brian gave me a photo of beach huts in a frame. Which I liked. He’s got an accountant’s sense of humour. It’s his mum’s. Give it back, eh.

And finally, if you didn’t understand half of the above don’t worry. I didn’t either. No. No reason. Not a scooby.

cya and keep(ing) it fun

Johnt850, aka the Space Cowboy remix

Oh and the schemey bit……..It’s where the old woman with cancer goes to get chemotherapy and they all come back and say things like ‘she’s getting better’ and ‘doesn’t her hair look good’ and so on. (False hopes) Five years ago this month my mum (80s) took really ill and in a fairly short time we knew it was bad. I was there with her when the Registrar confirmed so many things and then I did the walk up the road to begin the phone calls. (Forgot I’d taken the car. Went back to collect it the next day.) I think it was the phone calling that maybe eventually did for me. Lots of it.

Mum turned down the offer of chemo ‘cos she didn’t want to prolong her suffering and didn’t want to lose her hair. She was also glad it was liver and not lung cancer cos that meant she could carry on smoking.

I think that is pure f**king class, man. Dignified and class. Maybe I learned. A little.

Up yours Onthank, with a bucky bottle. Square go? Any time. Ashton Lane, okay for you? Maybe a spot of brunch beforehand? Montillado sherry, anyone?

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3 Responses to “Make it last, Don’t let this feeling go away, yeah, yeah, yeah, Make it last, I need this frame of mind to stay, to stay. Make it last.”

  1. Planet Paul Says:

    This is great – for so many reasons, as you might say.

    Your mother had class. It reminded me, the story not your Mother, of Charles Hawtrey, who was offered the opportunity to prolong his life by having his legs amputated. Of course, the aging enfant terrible refused, as he wanted to die with his boots on. And he did.

    As for commissions, that line ‘we’re working on something similar’ is an excuse for keeping mediocrity in unmerited positions of power.

    So more power to you, as you rightly deserve it.

  2. johnt850 Says:

    My mother and Charles Hawtery in the same paragraph?

    What a carry-on, Matron!

  3. Fantasy Says:

    Cool one =)) =^_^=

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