Once again, I am pleased to give a plug to a piece by Kenneth Roy, editor of the Scottish Review, and one of Scotland’s finest journalists. One of the prime functions of the thinking press (I draw a distinction between them and the red-tops) is to highlight and hold up to ridicule the sillier pontifications of our political classes, in this case Ms Ruth Davidson, Leader (but not for much longer, I suspect) of the Scottish Conservative Party.
Fergus, your CV reads like a novel, and you live in a beautiful part of the world. You must be a happy man. I never met you father, but I know that he was part of he fabric of the city of his time.
There is one omission from your list of Scottish crime writers, my good friend Paul Johnston. You probably know him of old, for you and he were at the same school at the the same time. Looking at your ages, you fit halfway between him and Tony Blair.
Thank you for that generous testimonial. I’ll pass it on to AJ at http://www.campbellreadbooks.com.
Careful, you don’t want to be too close to some of the action.
Thanks to Fred Macaulay, one of the nicest guys on radio, for inviting me to join him this morning. I’ve been in a fair few broadcasting stations around the world; call me biased, narrow-minded, anything you like, (within reason) but my global favourite is the riverside HQ of BBC Scotland. I envy those who work there; if they had any office space available I’d rent it and commute from Gullane. For those who missed my slot and would like to catch up, try this link:
As it’s radio, it should work internationally. When you open it move the slider along until you’re 50 minutes into the programme. Better still, move it 30 – 35 minutes in and you’ll catch Stephen Poliakoff and Jacqueline Bisset.
(By the way, I meant to ask, but forgot. What the hell are they building next to the SECC and the Armadillo?)
Life imitates art, and sometimes it’s not funny. I’m just setting out on Bob Skinner’slatest journey and last night I had occasion to dump a body, as frequently I do, in the vicinity of Edinburgh. After some thought I decided that it would be found washed up on Cramond Island. For those who don’t know it, or of it, the island is very small. Indeed it barely qualifies as an island at all, as it can be reached on foot at low tide, via a causeway. I pondered for some time before making my choice. The currents in the Forth are complicated, and it’s a big estuary. Was it feasible for a cadaver to end up there, or did it beggar belief? I wasn’t sure, but I went ahead and wrote the chapter, knowing that I had plenty of time to think better of it and relocate.
This afternoon, I was driving home from a very enjoyable chat with Fred Macaulay on his Radio Scotland show, when the Radio Forth news headlines came on air. When I heard the second item I almost drove off the road. Some poor person, God rest him, had indeed been washed up on Cramond Island.
What am I going to do? I don’t know. Why am I posting this? Possibly as a record, to make it clear when the book is published, in around eighteen months, that I’m not taking advantage of someone’s tragedy. Tough call.
For those morning radio listeners among you, I’m guesting tomorrow on Fred Macaulay’s daily show on BBC Radio Scotland. The schedule has me on air just after 11:30 hrs, GMT. In Scotland you can pick it up on FM, DAB etc. Globally it should be available on line.
‘The desire to write grows with writing.’
You were kidding yourself, Desi.
So, football followers, it looks as if Manchester City are working up to off-loading the eccentric Balotelli. As a Man U fan, I can only hope the deal goes through. Why? Because he’s a hell of a player and his departure can only weaken the noisy neighbours. Might Fergie step in at the last minute? No, but if he did, he’d get more out of him than Mancini has.
Scotland isn’t alone in fighting with itself over independence.
Interesting question. No, I have no personal connection with Stew-Mel, but a couple of friends sent sons there. Bob Skinner’s pal Xavi went to Watson’s, but I’ve no links there either. Thanks for the comments; now I must get back to Skinner 24.
Why would anyone want to add salt to coffee? Why not? My Grandma Bell did, and she was not one to be questioned. She also put pepper on her strawberries.
Another Scottish Review belter from the keyboard of Kenneth Roy.
This is what tapas look like in Meson del Conde; esqueixada, a salad with marinaded salmon and prawns, come croquettes, and of course, patatas bravas.
Nice on by my friend John, in christening our First Minister, Kim Jong-Eck.
Hola, fellow Jedi. In fact there is a new Primavera out in ten days, available for immediate delivery from http://www.campbellreadbooks.com, signed.
What do I think of Rory switching to Nike? I reckon Rory could put an umbrella in his bag and shoot level par, so I’m not too worried for him. You’re right in your suggestion that Nike have failed to crack the mass golf club market, but the best player ever has used them to win fourteen majors and umpteen WGC events. If I have a worry about Rory it’s that he seems to be falling into the Tiger trap of not playing enough. One outing, one missed cut, then four weeks off; that doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. Even Eldrick is teeing it up this week at Torrey Pines, though he’s only confirmed for the four majors so far.
Holidaying in Gullane at the end of February should qualify you for some sort of award. I hope you get lucky. As for Jim Skinner, who the hell is he?
Welcome also, Gordon Strachan. I’ll give you three years, max.
Congratulations, Maria and Oscar, and welcome Sam. Hey, Zoe; you’ve got company.
I don’t reckon this linesman will be back at the Emirates in a hurry. Before yesterday’s match, Manchester City were reported to have returned 900 tickets, unsold because of the high prices charged by Arsenal.