I'll Give it a Miss, Thanks...

Most of us are affected by the scourge of the Internet - spam email. I tried to get tickets to see The Specials who are playing in Edinburgh next month - so far without success. In a moment of weakness I tried a ticket agency called Seatwave in the vain hope they might have some left. Sadly, they haven't. Even sadder, they now email me on a weekly basis with details of 'events' I wouldn't be seen dead at. However, they've excelled themselves today with chances to buy tickets for the following forthcoming 'unmissable events' in the UK:

Jimmy Carr - a comedian who is about as funny as a vasectomy. Channel Four clearly believe Carr is a comic genius but on the odd occasion I've caught a few minutes of his act on the television I immediately regret wasting those minutes of my life...

Michael McIntyre - here's another 'comedian' - although I use this term loosely - for whom the term 'up his own arse' could have been coined. That said there is at least one person guaranteed to be laughing at this show - Michael McIntyre. Even less amusing than Mr Carr and that's saying something...

WWE DX Invasion - the accompanying photograph on the email tells me this is something to do with wrestling. Not the homespun British sport that was so popular in the 1970s - I remember the likes of Mick McManus, Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks with a certain degree of fondness - but the loud, crass, cringe worthy American stuff that just irritates the hell out of me.

NFL Patriots v Bucs at Wembley Stadium - I sometimes wonder why the Americans just don't invade the UK and be done with it. I have no interest whatsoever in American football and I wouldn't go even if Seatwave paid me...

And finally: Ricky Gervais. A few years ago the star of The Office was mildly amusing. Now he suffers from the same affliction as Michael McIntyre, namely he loves disappearing up his own rectum. America seems to have taken to Ricky - which speaks volumes really.

Congratulations to Seatwave, however. I can hardly think of any other 'events' I'd rather not go and see. Now about The Specials gig in Edinburgh next month. Anyone got any spare tickets...?

The Continuing Demise of The Scotsman

The news that The Scotsman will no longer be printed in Edinburgh is another blow to the once esteemed newspaper. More than 100 jobs are to go as the owners of the paper - Johnston Press - told staff they intended to move printing to Glasgow.

I first began reading The Scotsman more than two decades ago when I lived in Aberdeen. Looking at that time to move to the capital city, The Scotsman was the best way for me to keep in touch with what was happening in Edinburgh; job vacancies, places to live etc. At that time The Scotsman was a quality broadsheet newspaper and I was often ridiculed by ignorant Aberdonian colleagues that I was buying a 'snobs paper'. There were quality sports journalists such as Mike Aitken and Ian Wood, both of whom have influenced my style of writing over the years.

The Scotsman now is a tabloid paper and there's little doubt it has gone down market in recent years. Not so long ago the paper had presitgious offices in Edinburgh's North Bridge (pictured left) They left this magnificent building to head down Holyrood way. This latest move by its owners to save costs is typical of an industry that is struggling to cope with the ever expanding internet. People demand instant communication these days and through websites such as the BBC and SKY they can get it - usually for nothing (although News International who own SKY and The Sun and News of the World newspapers are considering introducing a charge for their on-line versions. How many people will be willing to pay for stories about Kate Price, Big Brother and Ant and Dec is debatable...)

The demise of The Scotsman is another sad chapter to add to an ever-changing society. Those who remain in the newspaper industry must be increasingly concerned about their futures. I wish them well...

A Pregnant Pause

Without wishing to sound like the late, great Rikki Fulton's Reverend I.M. Jolly - it's been a helluva year what with one thing and another. On Monday I joined the rest of the family in celebrating youngest daughter Michaela's 20th birthday. There was one notable absentee from the celebrations - elder daughter Laura. She was at home, in bed, struggling to stop being sick. Today she was admitted to Edinburgh's Royal Infirmary. The reason for her incessant nausea? She is pregnant.

Next March - all being well - I shall be blessed with grandchild number three. I have little doubt that grandchildren one and two, Jack and Hannah - or Bonnie and Clyde as I like to call them - will welcome their new sibling with open arms and will waste little time in teaching the little blighter how to wrap Papa around his/her little finger. But, I need to be strong.

My thoughts tonight are with Laura and the hope she gets home either tomorrow or the day after. Her well being is paramount. My other concerns - such as how the hell am I going to find the money for presents for Christmas 2010 - can wait...

Happy Birthday Michaela

Being in your late forties is a curious time. Some way from thinking about retiring and what do to with your twilight years but not as far away - in the opposite direction - from when you were a youth and thinking you had the world at your feet.

On Monday my youngest daughter Michaela celebrates her 20th birthday. She has always been - and always will be - my wee girl and while she was still a teenager this was my metaphor for clinging on to the wreckage of my younger days. 'Yes, I have a teenage daughter' intimated I wasn't yet ready to be put out to grass. Admittedly, this was trumped more than four years ago with the 'yes, I am a grandad' thanks to my older daughter Laura...

When Michaela herself tells me she is feeling her age any last vestige of hope I have of clinging on to my youth disappears. This has been a difficult year for her, as has been documented elsewhere in this blog. I know she will be wishing Billy was still here to share her birthday with her. But throughout these last few difficult months she has demonstrated integrity and a maturity far beyond her still tender years - something that makes my heart swell with pride.

Happy birthday, darling. A new decade begins. I know at the end of it you'll be making your auld faither even prouder.

If You've Seen Juan...

A woman has twins, and gives them up for adoption. One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named "Amal." The other goes to a family in Spain, they name him "Juan". Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to his mum. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wished she also had a picture of Amal. Her husband responds, "But they are twins. If you've seen Juan, you've seen Amal."

A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.

An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing to look at either.

An optimist is a very dense fog, but a bigamist is even denser.

And don't forget the Russian astronaut who was nervous about going into space so he took too many antidepressants, became psychotic and killed his fellow crew members on the space station. He was charged with premedicated MIRder.

And there's the case of a pert and perceptive young lady of our acquaintance. Her boy friend is currently prospecting for oil somewhere in the Middle East. So she sent him a 'Get Well' card.

At a hearing aid centre 'Let us give you some sound advice.'

At one time, economic conditions caused the closing of several small clothing mills in the English countryside. A man from West Germany bought the buildings and converted them into dog kennels for the convenience of German tourists who liked to have their pets with them while vacationing in England. One summer evening, a local resident called to his wife to come out of the house. "Just listen!" he urged. "The mills are alive with the hounds of Munich!"

In all the commotion the little moth asleep on the light fixture awakened. He listened to the story in amazement. As the whole story unfolded the moth became terribly sad - Have you ever seen a moth bawl?

It's a good thing someone invented venetian blinds, otherwise, it would be curtains for everyone.

Many years ago there was a small town that had several bakeries. One of these was run by the aunts of a man named Penn. He and his aunts baked the best pies in the state. Not only that, but they were also the least expensive. Now the other bakers could make equally delicious pies, but Penn always sold more, for no one could beat the 'pie rates of Penn's aunts'.

Recently a guy in Paris nearly got away with stealing several paintings from the Louvre. However, after planning the crime, getting in and out past security, he was captured only two blocks away when his lorry ran out of gas.. When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied "I had no Monet to buy Degas to make the Van Gogh...."


Had enough?

Aisle be Back (no I won't...)

One of the many plus points about the internet is the emergence of on-line shopping. I don't just mean the occasional splashing out on a luxurious item such as a television, computer or some other electrical gadget. I mean the hum-drum exercise that is getting food on the table and other household necessities. In years gone by I grew to detest the trail round the supermarket and the weekly battle for groceries. Now I shop from home via the websites of the likes of Tescos, Sainsbury's and ASDA. Sainsbury's is my preferred choice as - take note Tescos - they usually turn up when they say they're going to and usually deliver everything I order. Today being a holiday in Edinburgh, however, I opted to head to ASDA as my darling daughter Michaela offered to pick me up outside the supermarket and take me home (there'll be a price to pay for this but I'm unsure just what this will be...) But my visit merely reminded me how much I hate shopping...

If some people drove their cars they way they steer their shopping trolleys there would be carnage on the roads. The danger begins before you even enter the building, merely by obtaining a trolley from outside and making for the entrance. Today I appeared to be the only person who knew where they were going. Without wishing to be sexist - okay I will be sexist - it's mainly women who are the main offenders here. It's the same with any kind of shopping. Men know what they're going for, know where to get it, get it, pay for it and head home. A relatively simple modus operandum but one which appears far too complicated for the female of the species who just amble around aimlessly. Worse still, they appear happy to do so.

Getting a clear run down one of the countless aisles is damn near impossible. And it's nearly always the shopper with the trolley overflowing with goods who leaves said trolley in the middle of the aisle while they consider whether to buy free trade coffee, decaffeinated coffee (decaffeinated coffee - am I the only one who doesn't see the point of this?) or the cheapest brand coffee. While their unruly offspring wreak havoc with the store and other shoppers (usually me) and scream incessantly.

Then there are the 'Hello! I've not seen you in ages, how are you?' shoppers who decide to block up the aisle and regale each other with meaningless episodes in their sad little lives over the last five years. They appear oblivious to the words 'excuse me please' while they chatter about how Shona is pregnant again and did you not know she left her man last year and it's little Johnny I feel sorry for....All I want is access to a four pint carton of milk.

And that's another thing. How many types of milk are there these days? Full cream, semi-skimmed, super semi-skimmed, half fat, organic....Jeezo, I just want some bloody milk.

On the plus side, actually going in person to the supermarket means you can actually pick your own fresh meat, fruit and vegetables and not have tonnes of the produce delivered with the small detail revealing that the sell by date is tomorrow. No names here, Tescos...

On the negative side - and ASDA seem to be particularly guilty here - there are the 3 for £5 stickers adorning so many products. So your intention to purchase just one block of cheese is trumped by the fact that you can get three for spending just a pound more. What a bargain! For who, I'm not so sure...

Having fought your way through the platoon of screaming brats, direction less women and pensioners who might have forgotten why they're there in the first place, you finally stagger to the checkout. Trying to work out what will be the quickest checkout is a skill worthy of a SVQ (Supermarket Vacating Queue) qualification. It's not merely a case of heading for the shortest queue. There will be some old dear who has to hand over £45.63 in pound coins, ten pence pieces and coppers and the woman who opts to pay by credit card but, inevitably, can't remember her pin number.

Much as I appreciated my darling daughter's kind offer to pick me up from my shopping hell, I think next time I'll stick to what I've become accustomed to these last few years and get my groceries from the comfort of my own home.

Going back to the battlefield that is the supermarket? I would need to be off my trolley...

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.