At least 5 hoops and 2 bluenosers were Hibbies.
Caldwell
Thomson
Whittaker
Brown
Riordan
Killen
Miller (after a fact)
I rest my case.
Get your own, why don’t you?
I confidently predict that Stevenson, Fletcher and McCann will be there in due course.
I went to see my one and only Edinburgh Festival show tonight. LuckilyI avoided reading the reviews or I’d have had to call off with a hairwashing appointment.
It was Orpheus X by some national USA Opera Co.
My pal George invited me and I was frank with him. (Actually he was frank with me.)
“That was shite” he said. And George doesn’t swear.
In truth it was poor. But it had its highlights.
The main female protagonist had got her kit off in the first minute, albeit on video.
(That’s her in the picture.)
Actually that was it. The one and only highlight.
So, Tommy is officialy still the only Rock opera worth writing about.
But the question remains. Why?
It’s not funny.
It’s very painful.
My new shoes are a size 9.
Sciatica 10.
Ok. I don’t do jokes here. But I liked this one.
A man walks into a butcher’s shop and asks for a steak and kidley pie.
The butcher says “You just said kidley”
He remonstrates “Naw ah didley”
Perfect joke in my book. 100% funny. Delivered well it will definitely get a laugh.
Tom (12) made a presentation to Jeana and I about investing my hard earned cash into a dotcom venture. He believes he can take £10 a month off me. Give me £15 back and make a profit by buying and selling on ebay.
I’m all for entrepreneurialism.
He did a post-den interview into the grip of his putter (a surrogate microphone) claiming he had been to hell and back facing the hardline dragons.
I shall keep you posted of course.
This guy is often seen in Princes Street preaching repentance. But he obviously lives in Fife (as I spotted him at teatime last night on the Fife train) and after a hard day’s haranguing he gets back into research mode planning the next day’s preaching.
Young Marble Giants’ Collosal Youth is a monumental album and has just been re-released on CD after 37 years.
My vinyl version is virtually unplayable now.
It comes a three CD box set with all the singles, their Peel session and more. It is full of lengthy and fawning sleeve notes. The lyrics are abysmal but this is an all time classic album that MUST be in everybodies collection and, you know what, despite it’s low-fi production values, student pretentiousness (although they weren’t students) and fayness par excellence. It remains what it was when it came out.
A stonewall classic.
That was them then…
]
And this is them now…
]
Filed under: family
Seems it’s the time of much celebration. My Grandad (him with the baldie – runs in the family) was born on August 23rd 1907 which, had he not passed away 30 years ago, would have made him a centenarian today.
Not to worry about the small matter of him not being with us, we had a family party in his honour anyway.
The party was held in a church hall in Winchburgh and this was where I stumbled upon a very interesting fact.
Winchburgh, Broxburn and, of all places, Addiwell were the world’s first oil industry boom towns.
The orange coloured shale bings which dot around the local landscape were the byproduct (well waste to be more accurate) of the parafin industry in that area.
Parafin was extracted from the shalebeds and was the world’s biggest oil supply for many years from mid 19th century until it ran out in the 1960’s.
“Bugger me.” I thought. ” I never knew that”.
And yes, before any smarty farty Jambo points it out. Correct, even my Grandad never saw Hibs lift the Scottish Cup. There; that’s spoilt your fun eh!
Filed under: Arts, music | Tags: anton corbjin, control, dvd, hooky, ian curtis, Joy division, music, new order, new release, new relwease dvdd, NME
Kenneth Fowler wrote a brilliant tribute to Tony Wilson on his blog which I do not intend to attempt to upstage.
I was a huge fan of Factory records boasting recordings by Joy Division, New Order, The Wake, Crispy Ambulance, Happy Mondays, Cabaret Voltaire, The Durutti Column, OMD, and A Certain Ratio on this venerable label.
Just being on Factory Records was a thing of greatness and everything about the label was stylish.
But this is my favourite thing which I spotted as a callow youth.
The catalogue numbers were clearly an important part of the whole shtick.
To demonstrate have a look at this list
FAC 25 – Closer by Joy Division – their second album
FAC 50 – Movement by New Order – Their first album
FAC 75 – Power Corruption and lies by New Order – also an album
FAC 100 – Low life by New Order – Their third album
FAC 150 – Brotheerhood by New Order – Their fourth Album
FAC 200 – Substance by New Order – Their best of album
FAC 250 – Substance by Joy Division- Their best of album
FAC 275 – Technique by New Order – Their fifth album
FAC 300 – An untiltled New Order Album released on Cassette only (only 5 copies were ever made)
FAC 350 – Not allocated
How cool is that? No Joy Division or New Order singles ever got a catalogue number ending in 25, 50, 75 or 00. Only albums. And, God knows, there were plenty of singles to be afforded that accolade.
I’ll pick my anorak up now shall I?
Every week Jeana and I listen to the guff that folk spout on the soporama show.
But this morning Jeana shrieked.
“I hate that song. I HATE THAT SONG”; making me think that “I’m not in love” by 10cc was part of some jilting exercise she hadn’t told me about. But no, she just HATES THAT SONG.
Anyway, it got me thinking about the letter I’ve been planning to write to him for some time and I’m sure some of you must have had the same idea (If you’ve heard his toe curling two hours.)
It goes something like this
Dear Steve
It would make me so happy if you’d read out this letter on the air. My wife Jeana and I are such big fans of your wonderful show. In fact we record it and lissten to it time and again through the week in anticipation of you coming on air again. So, you can imagine how we would feel if you actually read out our letter.
Jeana and I met in 1943 in a military hospital in Belgium. I was having an ovary removed as the field doctor had just found out that I was a hermaphrodite. But it’s OK now, I am all man, even if I am getting on in years.
Jeana had no prejudice whatsoever towards my hermaphrodism, unlike some of my other, rather ungentalmenly, fellow patients who used to taunt me with cries of “There he/she goes” every time I went to the WC.
Jeana was a tower of strength at this time, and remains so to this day. So, as soon as I recovered I asked her to wed me. She accepted with good grace and we have been together ever since.
63 adoring years.
Steve, I can’t begin to put into words how much this lady means to me. She has often bitten off more than she could chew. (And believe me that was painful.)
We have 7 lovely children and 42 adoring grandchildren. Even 2 great grand children with, believe it or not, a great, great grandchild on the way courtesy of our delightful 8 year old great grandson, Ranolph.
Jeana hasn’t been feeling so well recently because of the CJD and Pleuracy she got on holiday in Iraq. And I fear she may have to have her other leg amputated too. But she still has the tine for a smile and a cuddle. Although that’s not so easy in her straightjacket.
She means so much to me and I hope her prison sentence for that mugging will be repealed because the women was due it.
She’s my lover, my best friend, my soul mate. We’ve had our ups and downs but she’s always there for me. Could you play ‘True’ by Spandau Ballet just for us? *
She’d love to hear her name read out on the radio, so I hope you will.
All the best Steve.
Mark
* Thanks Ian (see comments)
Or something like that.
Mark Lamaar (standing in for Jonathon Ross) opened his radio show this morning with this sublime song. It is unique. So I tried to buy it on itunes and Amazon.
Impossible.
It’s out of print and only available at £50 as a collector’s item.
I don’t suppose any of you out there in WordPress land have it do you?
Or know where I might get it?
Filed under: Scotland
It’s not been a good summer for barbies and Amy, who is sweet 16 tomorrow, (Friday 17th) wants one on Saturday. What’s more, I’ve bought all the stuff.
Good stuff too.
So, like a good dad, I checked the weather on the best and most predictable weather site I’ve found so far.
It’s called Metcheck and you’ll find it here.
In doing so I discovered they have a Barbie-ometer.
How good is that.
Here’s Amy’s prospects.
“Hello. Is that McDonalds?”
Filed under: Rants
Further to my rant the other day I’ve had some interesting corroborative evidence that I am not alone.
OK.
The time has came.
My dirty secret is out. BB2007 is actually quite interesting.
The freaks are gone and it’s back to normalish folk.
Liam, the Geordie soft lad, spoke words of great widom tonight.
“You can’t not upset some’dy ‘cos they’re gonna, like, put water oot their eyes.”
Nice. That’s philosophical.
And, to the point.
He then put water oot of Carol’s eyes.
I’m sorry, but I have to share this with you.
I’ve had lots of fun in the last few days in the office clicking on the freedictionary.com’s voice simulator.
At inappropriate times of the day (quiet mainly, when people are really busy working on important stuff) it’s highly amusing to hear the rich baritone of an Anmerican voice intoning “jobby” “poo” “penis” and the likes across the office.
For example.
If you don’t believe me try it out yourself at www.thefreedictionary.com/Wanker.
683 million others have.
And the comment below from Phillip Lewis shows that I am not the only nincompoop out there.
You could always use the ‘microsoft sam’ voice programme, if you are using winxp go to Start/Control panel/Speech. and replace the phrase “you have selected Microsoft Sam….” with any words or phrase of your choosing and click ‘preview voice’
Endless hours of childish fun!
I am not a particularly political animal, (in fact I consider myself politically naive) but I spent a great deal of today reflecting on Scottishness and its values.
For a start, I played golf at Kilspindie in the pishing rain (but beat an Englishman).
He refused to accept defeat as we walked off after 12 holes, completely drenched, because “golf is a game of 18 holes”.
My arse.
He lost.
Then I happened to watch the Lochaber v Fort William Shinty match on TV, commentated on in Gaelic. (What a crap game that is. Hockey with bigger bruises).
And then, most importantly, I watched Newsnight Scotland and the in-depth coverage of the SNP’s renewed and vigorous bid for Scottish Independence ; a mere 3 months into their, highly creative but minority, governance of Scotland.
I am a great supporter of the Scottish identity, but should it be tied to the Union?
This is a very big question.
For many (modern) years we have debated this in Scotland, but never, in my view, from a standpoint where a further erosion of the stickiness of the Union might actually benefit our nation.
All of a sudden, we have a statesman that, love him or hate him, has a true Presidential charisma and purpose about him.
I have never, including in the last Scottish Parliamentary election, voted SNP (but I nearly did).
But, you know what, Alex Salmond might just be the man that Scotland, as a nation, needs right now. Maybe he has the chutzpah, the gallousness, the balls to lead us out of serfdom and a sense of inadequacy.
Maybe he is just charismatic enough to make us stand up as a nation again and stand against him.
Against who ?
Ourselves!
(Our lack of vision, purpose and confidence.)
Maybe.
Just maybe.
Whatever? I cannot ever remember seeing a “local” Scottish politician stand up and make a credible case for independence. Until today. At least we should think about it.
Filed under: photography
This highly dynamic ride at The Ferry Fair “shows”on Friday night doesn’t seem to have particularly moved this bunch of reprobates. Some of whom happen to be my bairns.
Filed under: photography
I notice they’ve rebranded the Forth Rail Bridge. Bloody Americans. Must be to raise a bit of cash to help the trains run on time.
A freind of mine from the West (six finger land to be precise) sent me a very nice ‘with sympathy’ card.
But you can’t keep a joker down can you?
Check out the envelope.
Filed under: sports
Filed under: Uncategorized
One of the abiding memories of my childhood is staying in a house like this.
A three storey terraced house in Edinburgh.
Actually our house was a little different because the third storey Dormer window was some 6 – 8 feet removed from the guttering below it. This is an important distinction as will be revealed in due course.
Once in a while the third storey guttering needed cleaned.
My father had two options.
a) Hire a bunch of men with scaffolding/VERY long ladders to do it for him.
b) Hang one’s young son (i.e. me) out of the window by a rope attached to the ankles and get him to attack the leaves/moss etc with a broom handle.
Needless to say my dad was of the option b school.
So, dutifully, I hung out of my bedroom window, head first, 30 feet above the ground below, and carried out my task.
I have to say, it wasn’t my favourite chore.
So, when we were recently having our house exterior painted by the option a method Tom and I took advantage of the scaffolding to clean the conservatory roof.
Unlike me , Tom took to it with relish as I stood below and , for once, I felt marginally nervous about the possibility of a negative outcome and a thick ear from the current Mrs G.
Thankfully he took to it like a Victorian scally to a chimney pipe and tunelessly whistled his way through the task from start to finish.
Filed under: Rants
How do the banks make so much money?
Easy. They overcharge those most unable to afford their services and they screw you through insurance.
It’s called exploitation.
Here’s how.
My Dad, upon hearing he had cancer, cancelled the holiday he had booked to (ironically) Lourdes. The Travel agent repaid a percentage of his holiday as it was within some cancellation period (25% I think) and advised him to claim the rest on his travel insurance.
“No bother” he thought. You can’t have a more stonewall claim than that can you.
Can you?
Yes. You can!
Having been a LLoyds TSB Gold Service policy holder for many years and never claimed a penny from them he requested and filled in the form.
And got knocked back.
They’d phoned his doctor who said he had been undergoing “tests” for his stomach pain at the time he had booked the holiday. “Tests” that took six months before they revealed anything.
Because he was undergoing “tests” and hadn’t thought to phone his insurance company – Who would?- his claim was invalid and so cancelling his holiday because he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer was therefore not deemed a good enough reason to make a claim.
I spoke to the call centre to clarify this and the lady on the phone exclaimed “Yes, it does seem a bit harsh doesn’t it”.
“Harsh. It’s utterly disgusting and immoral. Your company ought to be ashamed of itself” I told her.
“But it’s in the conditions Mr Gorman” she told me.
Ah, the get out of the scoundrel.
Lloyds TSB Gold Service Insurance.
Check your small print.
If a lorry ever runs into your house by the way, make sure you don’t tell them you saw it coming towards you. They might claim you could have phoned them to tell them it was imminent. Or blamed you for living in the wrong place.
Or perhaps you could have dismantled the part of the house the lorry was headed for and rebuilt it, subsequent to the near miss that you so cleverly construed.
