Wedding Day

Tomorrow - Valentine's Day - sees me marry the lovely Marion in a ceremony in Edinburgh.

Marion believes that looks are less important than personality – enter your own punchline here - which is just as well, otherwise she wouldn’t have agreed to marry me. Her unending generosity and kindness make me very humble and she has taught me the importance of patience and understanding. She has made me a better person and for that I am truly grateful.

Thank you to those who have already offered their best wishes - particular thanks to Graham Herriott for his lovely gift which touched both our hearts (and you thought I didn't have a heart!)

The nerves are jangling - but I can't wait for Saturday!

Giving It a Rest...

My life has changed in 2012. I left my wife of nearly thirty years in January and it's been a a tough ride on life's emotional rollercoaster. The effect this has had on my two daughters has been more than I thought it would but the change had to be made. When that great singer, Paul Weller, made the decision to leave The Jam thirty years ago - a few months after I got married - he shocked the world. Recently, he spoke of his decision.

'It didn't seem a particularly monumental decision to me. Any radical change in life has an upsetting and awful effect for other people, in whatever relationship. But what's the alternative? You carry on and pretend you're enjoying it? What's the point in that?  Someone's always going to get hurt along the way. You either have to be true to yourself or live a lie. And I'm not prepared to live a lie.'

The great man's words sum up my decision to do what I did ten months ago. I wrote on these pages towards the end of 2011 that this year would bring huge changes in my life. And it has - for the better. I look forward to 2013 and the even bigger and better changes next year promises.

I've been writing drivel on this here blog for nearly 5 years now. When I first started I was a keen blogger, posting almost daily and keen to share my inane ramblings with the world. It's brought me friends from around the world, particularly Australia and the United States. Some people even follow this blog and for that I'm particularly grateful. However, I've decided to - as the Scots say - 'gie it a rest'. I'm not going to delete the blog but I won't be updating very often either. Not that many people read it anyway so it's hardly a loss to the literary world!

I can recommend the blogs of my very good friends. Adullamite, a mature Hearts supporter who lives in England but always has something interesting to say; Lilly and Peggy in Australia, two fabulous bloggers whose view of the world is truly inspiring; and, across the pond, Joanna's blog is a quite brilliant read. There are other blogs listed on the right hand side that are also worth a visit.

It's been a great adventure and I've enjoyed writing my witterings. Thank you to everyone who has visited the blog and commented on my posts. To think talented people from the other side of the world have taken the time to read my gibberish outpourings touches my heart.

I may post again at some point in the months ahead. Hopefully with news of another life changing decision. But for now, it's goodnight from me - but not before another plug for my book, Hearts Greatest Games, still available on Amazon and in all good bookshops!

Kor...Blimey

Taken from Private Eye and my good friend Adullamite

UNIVERSITY CHALLENGE (BBC2)

Jeremy Paxman: What is another name for 'cherrypickers' and 'cheesemongers'?
Contestant: Homosexuals.
Jeremy Paxman: No. They're regiments in the British Army who will be very upset with you

BEG, BORROW OR STEAL (BBC2)

Jamie Theakston: Where do you think Cambridge University is?
Contestant: Geography isn't my strong point.
Jamie Theakston: There's a clue in the title.
Contestant: Leicester

BBC NORFOLK

Stewart White: Who had a worldwide hit with What A Wonderful World?
Contestant: I don't know.
Stewart White: I'll give you some clues: what do you call the part between your hand and your elbow?
Contestant: Arm
Stewart White: Correct. And if you're not weak, you're...?
Contestant: Strong.
Stewart White: Correct - and what was Lord Mountbatten's first name?
Contestant: Louis
Stewart White: Well, there we are then. So who had a worldwide hit with the song What A Wonderful World?
Contestant: Frank Sinatra?

LATE SHOW (BBC MIDLANDS )

Alex Trelinski: What is the capital of Italy ?
Contestant: France.
Trelinski: France is another country. Try again.
Contestant: Oh, um, Benidorm.
Trelinski: Wrong, sorry, let's try another question. In which country is the Parthenon?
Contestant: Sorry, I don't know.
Trelinski: Just guess a country then.
Contestant: Paris.

THE WEAKEST LINK (BBC2)

Anne Robinson: Oscar Wilde, Adolf Hitler and Jeffrey Archer have all written books about their experiences in what: - Prison, or the Conservative Party?
Contestant: The Conservative Party.

BEACON RADIO ( WOLVERHAMPTON )

DJ Mark: For 10, what is the nationality of the Pope?
Ruth from Rowley Regis: I think I know that one. Is it Jewish?

UNIVERSITY CHALLENGE

Bamber Gascoyne: What was Gandhi's first name?
Contestant: Goosey?

GWR FM ( Bristol )

Presenter: What happened in Dallas on November 22, 1963?
Contestant: I don't know, I wasn't watching it then.

PHIL WOOD SHOW (BBC RADIO ( MANCHESTER )

Phil: What's 11 squared?
Contestant: I don't know.
Phil: I'll give you a clue. It's two ones with a two in the middle.
Contestant: Is it five?

RICHARD AND JUDY

Richard: Which American actor is married to Nicole Kidman?
Contestant: Forrest Gump.

Richard: On which street did Sherlock Holmes live?
Contestant: Er. ... ..
Richard: He makes bread . . .
Contestant: Er .. .....
Richard: He makes cakes . . .
Contestant: Kipling Street?

LINCS FM PHONE-IN

Presenter: Which is the largest Spanish-speaking country in the world?
Contestant: Barcelona..
Presenter: I was really after the name of a country.
Contestant: I'm sorry, I don't know the names of any countries in Spain .

NATIONAL LOTTERY (BBC1)

Question: What is the world's largest continent?
Contestant:  The Pacific.

ROCK FM ( PRESTON )

Presenter: Name a film starring Bob Hoskins that is also the name of a famous painting by Leonardo da Vinci.
Contestant: Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

THE BIGGEST GAME IN TOWN (ITV)

Steve Le Fevre: What was signed, to bring World War I to an end in 1918?
Contestant: Magna Carta?

JAMES O'BRIEN SHOW (LBC)

James O'Brien: How many kings of England have been called Henry?
Contestant: Er, well, I know there was a Henry the Eighth ... ER.. ER ... Three?

CHRIS SEARLE SHOW (BBC RADIO BRISTOL )

Chris Searle: In which European country is Mount Etna ?
Caller: Japan.
Chris Searle: I did say which European country, so in case you didn't hear that, I can let you try again.
Caller: Er ......... Mexico ?

PAUL WAPPAT (BBC RADIO NEWCASTLE )

Paul Wappat: How long did the Six-Day War between Egypt and Israel last?
Contestant (long pause): Fourteen days..

DARYL DENHAM'S DRIVETIME (VIRGIN RADIO)

Daryl Denham: In which country would you spend shekels?
Contestant: Holland?
Daryl Denham: Try the next letter of the alphabet.
Contestant: Iceland? Ireland ?
Daryl Denham: (helpfully) It's a bad line. Did you say Israel ?
Contestant: No.

PHIL WOOD SHOW (BBC GMR)

Phil Wood: What 'K' could be described as the Islamic Bible?
Contestant: Er... .... ..
Phil Wood: It's got two syllables . . . Kor . .
Contestant: Blimey?
Phil Wood: Ha ha, no. The past participle of run . . .
Contestant: (Silence)
Phil Wood: OK, try it another way. Today I run, yesterday I . . .
Contestant: Walked?

THE VAULT

Melanie Sykes: What is the name given to the condition where the sufferer can fall asleep at any time?
Contestant: Nostalgia..

LUNCHTIME SHOW (BRMB)

Presenter: What religion was Guy Fawkes?
Contestant: Jewish.
Presenter: That's close enough.

STEVE WRIGHT IN THE AFTERNOON (BBC RADIO 2)

Wright: Johnny Weissmuller died on this day. Which jungle-swinging character clad only in a loin cloth did he play?
Contestant: Jesus.

Jesus, indeed....

Voting off The X Factor

As my fellow blogger and Hearts supporter Adullamite will no doubt concur, we men don't like to complain. Having been stricken with a heavy cold this weekend - it's not quite the near fatal ManFlu but not far off - I decided to have a night in on Saturday and crashed out on the sofa with the remote control for the television. With a packet of Lemsip, a man size box of Kleenex and a half bottle of Jack Daniels - purely for medicinal purposes, of course - I slumped on the chair and flicked through the multitude of trashy television channels that comes with Freesat. I have to tell you, dear reader, that my sadness plunged to new depths...

The evening didn't begin well. For I missed the opening programme of the new series of Harry Hill's TV Burp. Hill is someone I admire, not for his daftness, but his occasionally elaborate extraction of the urine from those who purport to make television 'entertainment' these days. I tuned in on time to see the closing credits before the phenomenon that is a sad reflection of the UK took over. I am referring to The X Factor.

At around 7:30pm every Saturday evening from now until Christmas, approximately eight million people will take leave of their senses, jettison their critical faculties and tune into two hours of what I suspect is mind-numbing awfulness on a scale not seen since Noel Edmond's House Party was forced on the nation more than a decade ago.

Mercifully, I have only caught fleeting glimpses of The X Factor but it seems to me to be a repetitive format that plays on the aspirations of susceptible no-hopers with limited talent and even less personality, acting out their fantasies on a set with as much visual appeal as a sixteen year old greasy haired youth with severe acne. Like witnessing a car crash, many people appear drawn to this 'show' watching egotistic no-hopers 'living the dream' to use a modern day cliche.

Talent shows on television are nothing new. In decades gone by there was Opportunity Knocks and New Faces. They could also be cringe-inducing but what marks The X Factor is this appears to be something of a freak show, a cynical marketing exercise masquerading as prime time television in order to manufacture the mythical Christmas number one and generate income through gullible people phoning premium phone lines in order to make someone called Simon Cowell - who gives a new dimension to the phrase 'so far up one's arse' bucketfuls of money.

What little I watched of the show seemed all so predictable and artificial - even the emotions are contrived. Yet throughout Saturday evening there were ceaseless comments from far too many people - some of whom should really know better - on social websites such as Facebook and Twitter.

Both my daughters firmly believe I'm something of a geek so it will be of no surprise to them to learn I switched from the highly irritating X Factor to the BBC Parliament Channel and watched a re-run of the 1970 UK General Election. Now you may accuse me of taking leave of my senses, just as I have accused much of the nation above. However, I found watching the likes of Cliff Michelmore, Robin Day and Robert McKenzie covering the election of Edward Heath as Prime Minister forty years ago a fascinating social exercise - Michelmore even suggested that the re-election of  someone called Margaret Thatcher to the Finchley constituency might see her become one of the first female members of the government...

Afterwards, I watched a quite brilliant film from BBC Scotland - Crying With Laughter. Being the BBC there were no annoying advertisements every five minutes and no sponsor's message - just bloody good acting and a powerful and emotive script. Later still, I caught a few minutes of the hugely talented comedian John Bishop on The Comedy Store. Thus, my Saturday evening date with television ended on a fine, uplifting note - after a quite appalling start.

That said, I'm not sure what saddens me more. That fact I watched The X Factor for all of five minutes before leaping for the remote control - or the fact millions of people will be watching this tosh every Saturday for the next few weeks...

Growing Old

A group of 40 year old buddies discuss where they should meet for dinner. Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the waitresses there have low cut blouses and nice breasts.

10 years later, at 50 years of age, the group, once again discuss where they should meet for dinner. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the food there is very good and the wine selection is good also.

10 years later at 60 years of age, the group, once again, discuss where they should meet for dinner. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they can eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant has a beautiful view of the ocean.

10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group, once again, discuss where they should meet for dinner. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the restaurant is wheel chair accessible and they even have a lift.

10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group, once again, discuss where they should meet for dinner. Finally it is agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant - because they have never been there before...

An Englishman Abroad (well, the north of Scotland)

"Our First Winter"

DEC 20th: It's starting to snow.. The first of the season and the first we've seen for years. The wife and I took out our hot toddies and sat on the porch watching the fluffy soft flakes drift gently down clinging to the trees and covering the ground. It's so beautiful and peaceful.

DEC 24th: We awoke to a lovely blanket of crystal white glistening snow covering as far as the eye could see. What a fantastic sight, every tree and bush covered with a beautiful white mantle. I shovelled snow for the first time ever and loved it. I did both our driveway and the pavement. Later that day a snowplough came along and accidentally covered up our driveway with compacted snow from the street. The driver smiled and waved. I waved back and shovelled it away again. The children next door built a snowman with coal for eyes and a carrot for a nose, and had a snowball fight, a couple just missed me and hit the car so I threw a couple back and joined in their fun.

DEC 26th: It snowed an additional 5 inches last night and the temperature dropped to around minus 8 degrees. Several branches on our trees and bushes snapped due to the weight of the snow. I shovelled the driveway again. Shortly afterwards the snowplough came by and did his trick again. Much of the snow is now a brownish grey.

JAN 1st: Warmed up enough during the day to create some slush which soon became ice when the temperature dropped again.. Bought snow tyres for both our cars. Fell on my arse in the driveway. Went to a physio but nothing was broken.

JAN 5th: Still cold. Sold the wife's car and bought her a 4x4 to get her to work. She slid into a wall and did considerable damage to the right wing. Had another 8 inches of white sh**e last night. Both vehicles are covered in salt and iced up slush That b*st*rd snowplough came by twice today............ Where's that bloody shovel.

JAN 9th: More f**king snow. Not a tree or bush on our property that hasn't been damaged. Power was off most of the night. Tried to keep from freezing to death with candles and a paraffin heater which tipped over and nearly torched the house. I managed to put the flames out but suffered 2nd degree burns on my hands. Lost all my eyebrows and eyelashes. Car hit a f**king deer on the way to casualty and car was written off.

JAN 13th: F**king b*st*rd white sh**e just keeps on coming down. Have to put on every article of clothing just to go to the post box. The little sh*ts next door ambushed me with snowballs on the way back - I'll shove that carrot so far up the little b**t*rd's arse it'll take a good surgeon hours to find it. If I ever catch the sh*t that drives the snowplough I'll chew open his chest and rip out his heart with my teeth. I think the b**t*ard hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shovelling and then he accelerates down the street like Michael Schuf**kingmacher and buries the f**king driveway again.

JAN 17th: Sixteen more f**king inches of fucking snow and f**king ice and f**king sleet and God knows what other white sh*te fell last night. I am in court in 3 months time for assaulting the snowplough driver with an ice-pick. Can' t move my f**king toes. Haven't seen the sun for 5 weeks. Minus 20 and more f**king snow forecast

JAN 18th: F**K THIS, I'M MOVING BACK TO LONDON!

Not Long Now...

Middle-aged male smokers with high blood pressure and raised cholesterol levels face dying about 10 years before healthier counterparts, a study warns. The UK study looked at more than 19,000 civil servants aged 40-69 and traced what happened to them 38 years later. The study was set up in 1967-70 at the peak of the vascular disease epidemic in the UK.

Participants had their height, weight, blood pressure, lung function, cholesterol and blood glucose levels measured and completed a questionnaire about their previous medical history, smoking habits, employment grade and marital status. Current smokers made up 42% of the men, 39% had high blood pressure and 51% had high cholesterol. They were followed up nearly 40 years later in 2005 by which time 13,501 had died.

From the BBC News website

Some interesting statistics there. Coming from a family where heart disease has always been a factor, I'm not particularly perturbed by the prospect of dying ten years before I should. As my grandfather died at 45 and my father died at 58 - both died very suddenly from a heart attack - the chances of me reaching the stage where I can draw my pension are - unlike, I have to say, my physique - pretty slim. I'm 47 years old and I'm continually told by those who tell me they care for me that I should lose weight. They may have a point.

But with a family history of heart disease being overweight is just one of many reasons why I may be considered at risk. Being a parent, grandparent, son, mortgage holder and not exercising enough - okay, not at all - all contribute to my unwell being. As does having high blood pressure, high cholesterol, mild asthma and a bad back. And a cat allergy, dust allergy and hay fever. And have I mentioned I've had toothache recently?

The plus point is I don't smoke, don't drink much alcohol (honest!) and seldom eat fried food (I usually grill) That's good, doctors may say but there is a considerable negative mark against my health. I support Heart of Midlothian Football Club.

As my good friends Adullamite and Lizzy might say that would knock ten years off anyone's life.

A Long Life

The state pension retirement age could be increased further, the UK's pensions regulator has told the BBC. David Norgrove said rising life expectancy meant millions of people would "undoubtedly" have to wait longer in future to draw a state pension. People will not save as much for retirement as in the past, with many people "frightened" to do so, he said.

The state pension age is due to rise to 68, and Pensions Minister Angela Eagle said there were no plans to raise that.

From the BBC News Website

Sometimes I just don't know what to believe. On the one hand, we have health experts telling us that more people die of heart disease in Scotland than anywhere else in Europe. This, we are told, is mainly down to poor diet with too much fatty foods. Scots penchant for the 'chippy' and Chinese and Indian takeaways is a popular as ever despite the recession. I have to say I'm prone to these myself and I know many other people who share similar culinary tastes. There are also those ecologists who tell us the planet is on the verge of extinction as a result of me leaving my television on standby every night instead of switching it off at the mains. Violent crime is also apparently on the increase. If one was to read all of those stories consecutively, one may assume we'll all be dead by the end of next week. We're all doomed...

On the other hand we have other 'experts' tell us that life expectancy is higher than ever and that the human race is getting much older. Advances in medicine and a realisation that eating habits need to change, we need to drink less and stop smoking altogether mean people are living much longer than in years gone by. In fact, some experts believe some humans may live until they're 150 in the not so distant future. It would be childish of me at this point to mention a blogging friend of some note, Adullamite, who can't be far away from becoming the first of that ilk... In any case, given the concerns raised above does anyone want to live longer?

Britain recently lost two of its very senior citizens. Harry Patch, the last Briton to have served in the First World War, died aged 111 while a few days earlier Britain's oldest citizen Henry Allingam took his last breath at 113. Why did those two gentlemen live so long? The reasons are unclear although I loved Mr Allingham's reply when he was asked the secret to old age. 'Cigarettes, whisky and wild, wild women!' he replied. I suspect Mr Allingham died with a smile on his face!

My father died at 58 and his father died at 45. So the chances of me receiving a message from the King to celebrate by 100th birthday are slim to say the least. As a father and grandfather, naturally I wish to live as long as possible to see my family try and achieve happiness and for little Jack and Hannah to grow up to be responsible, talented and popular adults. However, Ladbrokes are giving long odds I'll reach pensionable age.

Which, thanks to those health experts, is becoming further out of reach. That said, I have an unopened bottle of whisky in the cupboard. I'm off to the shops for twenty Embassy Regal - while I'm away if any wild, wild woman fancies getting in touch...

That's What They Call Progress

The old black and white photograph on the main page of this blog is of Tynecastle Park, home of the glorious Heart of Midlothian, Edinburgh's finest football club, taken in the 1950s. For those of you who read Adullamite's excellent prose, he actually appears in this photo, third from the front with the flat cap and scarf...The photo in this post is of Hearts with the Scottish Cup in 1956. Anyone of the Hibernian persuasion who doesn't know what this is, drop me an e-mail and I'll try to explain...

Before the auld fella retaliates, those days were before my time, being a child of the 1960s. But one of the many interesting aspects of this photograph is the number of smiling faces. Times were hard in post war Britain (as Adullamite will no doubt concur) but there seemed to be more of a community spirit then and a sense of knowing life was tough but just getting on with it. Going to the football was a welcome release from the travails of everyday life and in those less complicated times if you wanted to go and watch the finest team in Scotland - as Hearts were in the 1950s - you just headed for Gorgie on the tram, handed over your pennies and you stood on the terracing to enjoy the skills of some of the finest football players this country has ever produced. Compare that to now.

Hearts will face Dinamo Zagreb in the Europa League play-off round in a couple of weeks with the second leg due to be played at Tynecastle on 24 August. Tynecastle no longer has open terraces with the option of just turning up just before kick-off. Now you have to purchase a ticket for the all-seated 'stadium' (the name Tynecastle Park has been confined to the history books) with the top prices for the game against the Croatians being a whopping £32. I may be wrong here but I suspect £32 may have got you into several years worth of games at Tynecastle less than fifty years ago. And technology is such now that the old season ticket books - where you tore off your ticket for each game from a small booklet - have been replaced with something called a smartcard. I got my small piece of plastic the other week and shall attempt to use it for the first time today when I visit the old ground to watch Hearts pre-season friendly with Sunderland. Knowing Hearts history with such 'innovations' I fully expect it not to work...

Such technology is a sign of our times. Those not going to the game today can keep up with events minute by minute through the internet, mobile phone and Twitter updates - if you asked anyone in the aforementioned black and white photograph if they were on Twitter there would be a fair chance you would be carted away by men in white coats...

Such technology isn't always put to good use. The BBC News carried a story about the release of the Great Train Robber Ronnie Biggs the other day. As if to demonstrate to the younger and perhaps uninitiated people of today they ran a rather grainy old clip of the train involved on its journey back in 1963. Some young techno geek thought it might be a good idea to add a sound effect to the clip and added the shriek of a steam train for authenticity. Except the train involved was diesel. Well, it must have seemed like good idea to some ignorant BBC research assistant...

I wonder how many of the crowd at Tynecastle today will be smiling in the same way their contemporaries did five decades ago? I'll hazard a guess and say not a lot. Of course, those in the 1950s were watching the likes of Dave Mackay, Willie Bauld, Alfie Conn, Jimmy Wardhaugh and Alex Young - players who brought joy to even the sternest of fans.

Today, Hearts supporters will be watching the likes of Christian Nade attempt to hit a barn door....

Britain's Oldest Man

The UK's oldest man and one of Britain's two surviving WWI veterans has turned 113. Henry Allingham joined the Royal Navy Air Service in September 1915 before transferring to the RAF in April 1918. The Royal Navy hosted a birthday party on HMS President in London for his family, close friends and members of the Royal Navy and Royal Air Force. Mr Allingham, who lives in East Sussex, said he was looking forward to being a teenager again. The birthday is another landmark for a man who is the last surviving founder member of the RAF and whose life has spanned three centuries and six monarchs.

From the BBC News Website

Three cheers for Mr Allingham! In a country where many MPs fiddle expenses to the cost of the taxpayer, the cult of 'celebrity' is king, respect is conspicuous by its absence and moral decline is in acceleration, here is a man who has served his country in two world wars and has done the nation proud. I particularly liked his comment that he was looking forward to being a teenager again. With five grandchildren, twelve great-grandchildren, fourteen great-great grandchildren and one great-great-great grandchild it must cost him a bloody fortune.

As well as being Britain's oldest man, Mr Allingham is the only person still alive to remember Hibernian winning the Scottish Cup and Adullamite opening his wallet...

Happy Birthday, Sir - Britain salutes you!

Love Hurts

Apparently today is Valentine’s Day. I’ve been married for nearly twenty-seven years now (yes, more than three life sentences) so romantic gestures are simply no longer on my agenda. Although unlike blogger extraordinaire Adullamite I've not buried the bitch in the back garden...

How many Hearts fans will forgo their normal post-match pint after today's game at Tynecastle to take their beloved out for a meal? Certainly not I. Given who Hearts opponents are this afternoon there is every chance the woman who stood at the altar with a shotgun pressed against my back more than a quarter of a century ago will hark back to a certain Scottish Cup Final in 1986...

Season 1985-86 was a memorable one for all Hearts supporters, even given its traumatic finale. Unbeaten in league and cup since October, Hearts were just eight minutes away from winning the league championship. They needed just a single point from their final league game at Dundee on May 3rd to become champions of Scotland for the first time in over a quarter of a century. Sadly, Hearts lost two late goals which meant Celtic - 5-0 victors over St. Mirren the same day - snatched the title on goal difference. Whilst the infamous Albert Kidd was destroying thousands of Jambo dreams on Tayside, sixty miles north - we were living in Aberdeen at the time - my wife was experiencing trauma of a different kind. She was heavily pregnant with our first child and was due to give birth the following Saturday - the date of the Scottish Cup Final. Between Hearts and Aberdeen…

In the depths of despair I arrived home from my traumatic experience in Dundee to find Mrs Smith in a state of discomfort. Now, being the loving, caring, compassionate guy I am I would normally have rushed Mrs Smith down the road to Aberdeen Maternity Hospital. But when she said ‘it’s okay, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about’ that was enough for me to agree and head to bed. Thanks to Albert Kidd I just couldn’t face the world that Saturday night.

Thankfully, Mrs Smith was okay although the ear-bashing I received from her mother the following day probably registered on the Richter Scale (every bit as much as the trauma in Dundee had twenty-four hours earlier) But if ma-in-law was displeased then it was nothing to the rage she felt a week later.

Saturday May 10th 1986 - the day our first child was due to be born. And also the day of the Hearts-Aberdeen Scottish Cup Final - 140 miles away at Hampden Park in Glasgow. Now, in my defence, I did ask Mrs Smith early that morning if she was okay to which she replied she felt fine and would likely be going into town to do some shopping. So when I asked if she would mind if I went to the Hearts-Aberdeen game she readily agreed, not wanting me to make a fuss over her. Not in my defence is the fact I did nothing to change the idea in her head that the game was at Pittodrie - I had inadvertently forgot to tell her the game was in Glasgow. Her suspicions were aroused when my mate came to pick me up at 8.00am - by the time Mrs Smith had wobbled to the door to protest we were in the car and heading south.

As things turned out it was to be a second Saturday in succession that I and thousands of other Hearts fans - and there were forty thousand of us at Hampden that day - were traumatised as Aberdeen put a shell-shocked Hearts team to the sword and won 3-0. Hearts captain Walter Kidd was sent off and, having not lost a game for seven months, two defeats in seven days sent Hearts world crashing around them. But the ovation the magnificent Hearts support gave their team after the final whistle at Hampden was tumultuous and something no one who was there to witness it will ever forget. The fans appreciation of a sensational season moved the likes of Gary Mackay and John Robertson to tears. Long after the Aberdeen team had collected the trophy, acclaimed their fans and were back in the dressing room with one half of Hampden empty, those decked in maroon were still singing their hearts out at the Mount Florida end - I recall the stadium announcer pleading with us to leave!

As for Mrs Smith, it was to be another seven days before she finally gave birth to our daughter Laura. With the football season over I had no excuse for not being there and I was. Three successive Saturdays in May 1986 which resulted in the three most emotional occasions in my life.

So don’t fret about making a romantic gesture tonight. Some things - as I'm sure Adullamite will readily agree - are more important!

Here's to 2009

Good times for a change
See, the luck I've had
Can make a good man
Turn bad

So please please please
Let me, let me, let me
Let me get what I want
This time

Haven't had a dream in a long time
See, the life I've had
Can make a good man bad

So for once in my life
Let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
Lord knows, it would be the first time


Say what you like about Morrissey but he could write damn fine tunes...What I want for 2009 is world peace - but that's bollocks so I'll try for some other wishes.Such as...

...Health and happiness for my family. That daughters Laura and Michaela and grandchildren Jack and Hannah will continue to bring joy into my life. Did I really say that? Okay, substitute ‘continue to bring joy’ with ‘bring me less grief‘. I sincerely hope 2009 is a better year healthwise for me. 2008 was a catalogue of ill-health (keep this to yourself but I'm not a well man) and is ending in much the same way as it began with a visit to my doctor. I've now been struck with a chest infection but, if the doctor's surgery was anything to go by this morning, so has the majority of the population of Dalkeith.

…Health and happiness for those people outside my family who mean so much to me. To Colleen in Aberdeen who has given me new purpose in life and whose re-acquaintance was something I never thought would happen. (btw if Colleen’s daughter Nicola reads this - Jeezo yer maw can talk for Scotland!) Also health and happiness to June in Seattle and to Gary in Aberdeen - neither of whom has had the best of years in 2008. To Rob in Norway, however - I hope 2009 brings you as much happiness as 2008 did (and I’m not just talking Fabio Capello!)

...Hearts to start the year with a 10-0 victory over Hibernian. For a match report to say Csaba Laszlo says we still get just the three points, the same as any other win over the wee team but he’s disappointed with the number of missed chances from his team. Mixu Paatelainen says his team played all the football although to be fair no one told the Finn the game kicked off at 12.30pm… A week later Hearts are restricted to just five goals in the Scottish Cup triumph in Lochend.

...Independence for Scotland. Unlikely to be in 2009 I know and the downturn in the global economy makes this particular dream look to be a bit further away than this time last year. But Scotland has, on the whole, made a damn fine job of its devolved parliament. There's no reason why we can't go it alone. If only fellow Scots could take that next brave step...

...The breakthrough for Scots singer/songwriter Ally Kerr. He is such a talent it beggars belief why he isn't such a star in his homeland as he is in Japan. Hear some of his brilliant music at www.allykerr.com.

…Likewise Carolyn McGoldrick. http://www.carolynmcgoldrick.com/ Carolyn, like me, spent her formative years in Cumbernauld and has written a powerful song about her home town. I wish her and Ally every success in 2009.

...For my Hearts-supporting friend and fellow blogger Adullamite - here's hoping 2009 brings you success on the job front. With such a gift for words you could try writing a book, my friend. And next time you're in Auld Reekie you'd better buy me and Lady Muck a drink...www.adullamite.blogspot.com

…To win a substantial sum of money. Seeing as I don’t play the National Lottery and have given up on the football pools, this would appear the least likely of my wishes to come true (well, apart from putting ten goals past the Hibees) So I’m relying on the generosity of my darling daughters and good friends - or winning a million on the fixed odds coupon at the bookies. Nae chance on either count, then…

…and finally to all the visitors to this blog. Jeez, have you got nothing better to do?! Seriously, I hope that 2009 is everything you wish it to be. The signs aren’t exactly promising what with the world hit by financial calamity and insecurity, fear and pessimism over-riding much else in life. It will be hard to have a positive frame of mind with so much bad news going on. But there are good things going on in life. There are good people around. Love and respect for each other does exist - it just doesn’t get the publicity it deserves.

To all my friends and to those who read my rants, I give you words of wisdom from the wonderful Mr. Pete Wylie:

Let's have another drink and let's talk about the blues. Blues is about dignity, it's about self-respect, and no matter what they take away from you - that's yours for keeps. I remember how it was, how every medium - T.V. and papers and radio and all those people were saying: 'you're on the scrap-heap, you're useless', and I remember how easy it was to start believing that. I remember how you'd hear people take it for granted that it was true - just 'cause someone with an ounce of power said so. And that's a problem now, too many oddballs, too many pocketbook psychologists and would-be philosophers with an axe to grind. But there's a solution, it's not easy, but it's a matter of coming to terms in your heart with situation you're in, a matter of choosing how things go for you and not having things forced upon you. There are plenty of forces against you, forcing you against your will, your ideals - you've got to hope for the best, and that's the best you can hope for - you've got to hope against hope... I remember something Sal Paradise said, he said: 'the city intellectuals of the world are debauched from the full body blood-of-the-land and are just rootless fools'. So listen, when the smile, the condescending pat-on-the-back comes and says: 'we're sorry, but you're nothing, you've got nothing for us and we've got nothing for you', you say: 'No', and say it loud: "NO!", and remember, people who talk about revolution and a class-struggle without referring explicitly to everyday life, without understanding what is subversive about love, and what is positive in the refusal and constraint...with situation you're in, a matter of choosing how things go for you and not having things forced upon you. There are plenty of forces against you, forcing you against your will, your ideals - you've got to hope for the best - and that's the best you can hope for.

A Very Happy New Year to Everyone - here's to good health, peace and happiness in 2009!

Oooh Ma Heid!

When I couldn't stop sneezing on Sunday and went through a couple of boxes of Kleenex tissues, I thought I was in for the dreaded ManFlu. As Adullamite, Groanin Jock and other males will tell you, ManFlu can be debilitating, although being men we tend not to complain and just get on with things...But it appears it's just a cold I have instead.

But - it's a head cold. While my beak has dried up somewhat and the sore throat and aches and shivers have eased, I do have a pounding headache, a nagging, incessant pain (and that's nothing to do with the countless Celtic fans who have taken to posting on this site and sending me abusive e-mails following my article in the Hearts match day programme on Saturday!)

For three days now my head has throbbed. Now, as regular readers will know, I'm not one to complain. But if anyone has a suitable remedy for a severe headache please, please pass it on!

Hiring and Firing

One of the best bloggers around, Adullamite - my fellow Jambo and the only Hearts supporter still alive to have witnessed the club's Scottish Cup triumph over Hibernian in 1896 - has had some disparaging things to say about Human Resources professionals

http://adullamite.blogspot.com/2008/11/job-interview.html

Now as an HR professional myself - although some might challenge the word professional in my case - I feel I must defend my fellow hirers and firers. I'm sure my good friend June in Seattle - a fellow HR professional - would agree. Some of the people I come across on a daily basis at work would test the patience of any reasonable human being.

Interviewing potential new recruits is the easiest bit. That said I've interviewed some numpties in my time and have endured stoney silences, people who just won't shut up for five seconds and people who give just totally irrelevant answers. I've also had the 'funny' handshake - but that cuts no ice with me.

I was introduced to one interviewee a few years and she greeted me with 'Hello Mr Smith, I've heard a lot about you - but I'm sure none of it is true'. I swear I had never seen her in my life before (she didn't get the job)

An applicant interested in a Home Help's job stated in her form that her current duties as a cleaner included moping and hovering. She was a right barrel of laughs at the interview...

Dealing with existing staff is far more stressful than recruiting new ones. Some people will take out a grievance if someone so much as looks at them the wrong way. And some of the disciplinary cases I've been to would send a shiver down your spine. Although I still smile at the memory of an old Trade Union official who didn't particularly like the fella he was 'representing' at a disciplinary hearing and asked me what time we were kicking the s**t out of him. I suggested that, if it was all the same with him, we would merely dismiss him...

But one thing the HR profession will never be is popular. I remember someone telling me he was glad he didn't work in a job that was so unpopular. And he was an auditor...

But to Adullamite and others I say this. For a business to operate successfully it needs to employ the right people. And to recruit - and retain - the best you need to have right people to do so. Those right people being arguably the most important of any organisation (including the NHS!) - the good people of Human Resources!

Carry on Codgers

I travelled north to Aberdeen on Friday to see an old friend (it was almost two old friends but one of them took cold feet...!) and spent an enjoyable evening in the Granite City. No, that's not an oxymoron. Those who follow the fortunes of the city's football club and remember that erstwhile striker Frank McDougal may be interested to know he now runs a pub close to the city's Guild Street. Mine host still looks as fit as he did in 1984....true, he looked absolutely knackered twenty four years ago but that's beside the point. An enjoyable pint was had in Frank McDougal's Sports Bar.

It is perhaps a sign of my advancing years that three hours spent sampling the dubious pleasure of travelling on board a MegaBus service back to the capital city didn't do my frozen shoulder any good. Anyone who has suffered this condition - perhaps Adullamite, as he appears to have suffered everything else - will know how painful this can be. I'm used to receiving the cold shoulder from my family but this is something quite intense.

On arriving back in Edinburgh I met my mother and accompanied her on the Lothian Buses Service 33 to her place of abode, namely Gilmerton. My mother is in her early 70s and, unfortunately, her hearing isn't what it used to be. So when one of her neighbours, who is that little bit older and requires the use of a hearing aid, boarded the bus at Edinburgh's Royal Infirmary, there was a scene which could have been straight out of Carry On Doctor. Particularly when my mother's neighbour chose to sit in the seat opposite and not in the vacant seat in front of us. Cue a re-run of the scene from the Carry On film where Frankie Howard mistakenly believes he has only weeks to live and decides to marry his hard of hearing assistant - with the wedding conducted by a vicar whose hearing aid battery has gone flat. So, on the number 33 bus...

Mother: Hello Arthur

Arthur: What?

Mother: I said hello Arthur.

Arthur: I think it's about half past four.

Me: She's saying hello Arthur.

Mother: Why did he say it was half past four?

Me: He didn't hear you mother.

Arthur: Aren't you saying hello then?

Mother: What did he say?

Me: He didn't hear you say hello.

Arthur: What's wrong with your mother?

At this point I waved the white flag of surrender, got off the bus and left them to it. Two hours on there's a fair chance the two of them are still on the bus having circled the city at least twice. If Talbot Rothwell was on the bus, I fully expect Carry On Codgers to hit the screen next year...

The Language Of...???

As a fortysomething who sometimes feels his best years are setting like the sun on the horizon with the darkness of old age about to take their place, I occasionally feel my grandad status more acutely.

A younger colleague of mine in the office was chatting excitedly yesterday about going on holiday with her young family. 'So,' I casually remarked, 'You'll be feeling demob happy?' She looked at me with vacant eyes. 'What's that then?' she asked with an expression which suggested the old man's off on one again.

I tried to explain the term demob harks back to the second world war and the decade immediately after when young men and women served their country during conflict and in the post-war years did their national service in the armed forces. Having done their duty, they were demobbed back into 'civvy street', hence were demob happy.

Of course even I am too young to have been subjected to this - my fellow blogger and Jambo Adullamite will probably be able to tell you more, having served his country in both world wars - but the term was still widely used when I first began working thirty years ago. Many of my colleagues 'on the buses' in the late 1970s - pre First Bus when the company actually ran services to published timetables - were approaching retirement age and had served their time in the army. They often referred to going on holiday as being demob happy.

I really ought to make more of an effort to modernise my use of language but I find it increasingly difficult in this age of internet and mobile phone technology and the cursed 'text' speak. Daughter Michaela sent me a text message the other night saying she would give me a lift home - 'Al be over in fifteen minutes'. Quite who Al is I'm not sure but I can confirm my younger daughter has not acquired the services of chauffeur and indeed turned up on her Jack Jones (sorry, younger readers - on her own)

A minor source of irritation in a life I find increasingly irritating is the use of 'lol' not only in text speak but on internet messageboards. I know it stands for 'laugh out loud' but I always liken it to a stand up comic who is about as funny as a trip to the dentist and laughs at his own gags. I struggle with the whole concept. Another fellow Jambo sent me a text recently which seemed to allude to the fact he would see me on the motorway between Edinburgh and Glasgow. But what he actually meant by 'c u ltr M8' was that he would renew his acquaintance with me at a future date.

My elder daughter, the shy and retiring Laura, communicates with her father not so much by phone but through the pages of 'Bebo', the social - or you might say anti-social web site. She occasionally 'sends the love' although this is spelt 'luv' presumably because the energy she saves by typing three letters instead of four can be put to much better use...

I manfully try and accept all this on the premise of if you can't beat them, join them - lol. So until the next incoherent rant, I'll say TTFN.

Lest We Forget

My fellow Hearts supporter and esteemed blogger Adullamite wrote a wonderful piece on 1st July commemorating a battle during the Great War. http://adullamite.blogspot.com/2008/07/1st-july-1916.html

In 1916 there were sixty thousand casualties and twenty thousand dead in one horrific day of a conflict that must never be forgotten. Heart of Midlothian Football Club's connection to that battle - McCrae's Battalion - is honoured every Remembrance Sunday, along with others who gave the ultimate sacrifice to their country in a moving service at Edinburgh's Haymarket War Memorial.

In this increasingly frenetic and consumer driven, power crazy and greedy life, it's all too easy to forget those of a different generation who gave their lives so that we could have the country we have today. Similarly, the stories of those who were the victims of atrocities during both world wars must continue to be told so that a civilised society can ensure it never happens again.

I'm heading off to Poland on Friday for a long weekend to sample the delights of Krakow. Not so long ago, Poland was behind the so-called Iron Curtain that, during the Cold War and the days of Soviet Union power and communist suspicion, gave the impression of a cold, oppressed people living in poverty and at the mercy of their communist rulers. Times have changed, of course, and now Poland is part of the European Union.

Part of my trip will be a visit to Auschwitz and Birkenau where hundreds of thousands of Jews died at the hands of the Nazis in concentration camps during the Second World War. It promises to be a moving experience.

There are only a handful of old soldiers still alive who fought in the First World War and the numbers of those who served in the Second World War and of those who suffered unbearably at the hands of the Nazis are diminishing also. But as the years go by, we must always remember those who gave their lives in order that we can enjoy the freedom we have today.

Their sacrifice should never be forgotten.