Because She’s Worth It
JANICE: ‘Ah canny go yet, Chrissie … the cake’s no’ even been cut.’
CHRISTINE: ‘Well ah’m no’ hidin’ in the bogs aw night. This wis a stupid idea. Her an’ I fell oot big style. Whit’ll ah’ dae if she catches me here?’
JANICE: ‘Suppose apologisin’ would be oot the question …’
Planning a Comeback
“I met Joe briefly in Glasgow in October 1989. He was promoting a new record and playing at the city’s famous Barrowland Ballroom with his group The Latino Rockabilly War. It was my very good fortune to be late for a signing session that Joe was conducting in a city centre record store. He didn’t see me as I approached him, and with a windmilling arm, he accidentally elbowed me in the face. As a consequence, he spent more time with me than I suspect would otherwise have been the case and we eventually left the store together, walking and talking all the way from Union Street to his hotel.
The Joyful Kilmarnock Blues (Revisited)
There’s a pivotal scene in The Doors, Oliver Stone’s 1991 biographical film about the American rock band of the same name. The very young Jim Morrison was taking a road trip with his family and came upon an accident involving an overturned truck and an injured Native American Indian bleeding on the side of the road. When Morrison publicly recounted the incident later in life, the story had morphed from one Indian injured on the side of the road to several Indians scattered all over dawn’s highway, bleeding and dying. And then later to, “One of the Indians soul’s leapt into my own.”
Artificial Field of Dreamers
I’ve reached the age where I can now visualise a life beyond work. A time when I don’t have to drag my ageing arse back and forth along the M77 during congested, extended, soul-sapping rush hours. When I’m not at the beck and call of impatient clients or demanding deadlines. I can imagine all of this clearly. But I can’t conceive of the day when I’m not able to play football for an hour a week.
The Five Badly Drawn Boys
There are at least five Badly Drawn Boys. There could be more. Five have made themselves known to me. So, I know that there at least five Badly Drawn Boys. Of course, it’s not uncommon for record companies to contain multitudes of their best-loved acts. The extent of promotion that is necessary nowadays would leave one version in a permanent state of creative exhaustion; unable to respond to the flighty muse on the unpredictable occasions when she lowers her gaze.
When Danny Garvey Man-Marked Johan Cruyff
“We didn’t know it then obviously, but that was the pinnacle for him. only months later, and the injury …” Peter Higgins tails off. He looks away and slowly shakes his head. The rawness of this 37-year-old memory still prompts pride and regret in equal measure. Peter – or ‘Higgy’ as he has been known for most of his ninety years – is still razor sharp in his command of statistics that relate to Barshaw Bridge FC. He is speaking to me on the eve of the Ayrshire Junior Club’s 150-year anniversary.
The King is Deid
Ah’ve got Jasper tae thank fur ma endurin’ love ae The Ramones; the maist influential yet underrated band ae aw time, in ma opinion. Back in yon brilliant, boilin’ summer ae 1976, when ah’d just turned thirteen, Jasper wis the first manifestation ae anythin’ ‘punk’ any ae us hud ever seen. Jasper’s real name wis Anthony Taylor. He wis kent as Jasper ‘cos – an’ ah’ve still nae idea if this wis actually true or no’ – his da hud been cautioned fur some kinda inappropriate sexual behaviour wi’ a wee teenage lassie. Anthony, guilt by association an’ aw that, hud automatically become Jasper the Grasper. Jasper hud briefly lived in the cooncil flat above us.
The Resurrection Shuffle
As Napoleon Bonaparte is reported to have said; ‘What is history, but a fable agreed upon?’ Try though we may to see the past as a cast-iron depiction of life, the narrowed perception of the football fan is filled with convenient interpretation, outlandish bias, revisionary falsehoods. And, as I may be rightly accused of with this article, an opportune amnesia when it comes celebrating victory.
A Short Story About Jet Lag
Wide awake in unfamiliar – but all too familiar – circumstances. Wide awake when you know you shouldn’t be; when every other person in a thousand-mile radius is asleep; readying themselves for the next cycle of work, or of play, or of whatever they will do that reminds them that they are alive. Or at least that’s what my confused brain is telling me.
Worked a Miracle
Age withers the memory. A fond recollection of an event from thirty years ago will often drift from the factual to the apocryphal with the passing of time. But when musical highlights and favourite bands are the subject, I am firmly with Maxwell Scott. Let’s print the legend.