I'm Sure I Have Better Things To Do

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Entry for 17th November, 2007
2008-01-07 20:57:00
I have been trying to sell a few shares which I?ve had for three years and which are a total nuisance to me whenever I have to do my tax return. It is almost impossible to sell them. Thus far I?ve had to telephone several different departments, send off two separate forms, and now I?ve had to dispatch my passport and driving licence to somewhere in England. This has all happened since the War of Terror began as far as I can tell, and I sometimes wonder if it is all a bit of an overreaction. I know that we have had some terrible acts of terrorism in the UK recently, but isn?t it the case that we have always been facing some enemy or other over the years, be it the IRA or the communists or the Nazis? It appears to me that I now need to provide identification for almost every transaction that I?m involved in. It has got to the point where I will not be surprised if I pop into Greggs for half a dozen well-fired rolls and a yum yum, and I am faced with a request for my passport, a ...
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Entry for 16th November, 2007
2008-01-07 20:55:00
I have spent a whole weekend without alcohol! I appreciate that this sounds rather like someone who has just emerged from his second AA meeting, but I feel an evangelical fervour that makes me want ? no NEED ? to share this with you. You will probably find me joining the Temperance League shortly, or selling copies of the War Cry in a pub near you. Actually, the experience is interesting. It makes the weekend seem considerably longer than usual. A few drinks on a Friday night inevitably compresses Saturday ? even if you?re not hungover, you feel a bit sluggish. It has been quite nice to feel energetic and bouncy from 8am. And I did not waste my time ? I managed to do a whole lot of work proof reading the book on Saturday morning. If I continue to feel this good, I might go teetotal altogether. That would be good wouldn?t it? A whole lifetime without another alcoholic drink? No! Of course it wouldn?t be good! It would be profoundly depressing.
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Entry for 15th November, 2007
2008-01-06 13:13:00
My Significant Other is a bit of a fan of glossy ?celebrity? magazines. I put the word ?celebrity? in quotation marks because I generally don?t recognise the people staring up from the shiny pages. Frankly, my idea of a celebrity magazine would cover Charles Dickens, Joe Pettigrew the Aberdeen Striker from the early 80s and Richard Herring. However, I suspect that the publication would appeal to only a very small niche market. Of the magazines my Significant Other devours, I always look out for ?Closer?. It has my favourite column of all time in it. The author is Coleen McLoughlin, fiancée of England striker Wayne Rooney. You might be forgiven for thinking that Coleen is just a pretty face. But you would be wrong. She has clearly either been to journalism college, or alternatively has been closely studying A.A. Gill?s columns in the Sunday broadsheets. Here are a couple of particularly pithy pieces of prose from this week?s column ? ?You won?t see any photos of me in them, but ...
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Entry for 14th November, 2007
2008-01-06 13:11:00
I am just back from the shops (again) and am feeling a bit depressed by the whole experience. More and more, I?m finding that the only shopping that gives me any particular pleasure is the weekly trip down the Main Street with the kids, when we visit the butcher, the baker and the greengrocer. We actually talk to people. We interact. Don?t get me wrong. I?m not a luddite, and I understand entirely the convenience of supermarkets and the quality and variety that they inject into our lives. But there are disadvantages. For all the customer services desks and the ?We?re Here To Help Badges?, the supermarket is an oddly impersonal experience, where we (the customer) seems to be completely separate from the staff in their clinical white jackets, sitting behind high tech counters. Even if you do talk briefly to an assistant to ask where they keep the oak-aged pesto-flavoured cranberry tea, you can expect never to see them again in your life. And I?m not sure that the idea that superm...
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Entry for 13th November, 2007
2008-01-05 19:01:00
Day 2 of my self-imposed alcohol ban. It is a Friday too, so I am feeling particularly self-righteous right now, as I sup my decaffeinated coffee. I intend to get up at 7am tomorrow and telephone all of my friends who are not temporary teetotallers like me. I will sing them a merry tune and tell them how the drink is wasting their lives. I will offer to come to their houses and lecture them on the joys of a healthy lifestyle. I may even start a soup kitchen so that I can dole out nutritious broth to my friends as they hit Skid Row over the next 30 days. It is quite sobering to reflect that the vast majority of Saturday and Sunday mornings over the past 23 years (I know, I know ? it?s difficult to believe I am that old) have been spent in a slight fug owing to hangovers, or at least the after-effects of a few beers the night before. I imagine I could have completed three open university courses and learned how to play the lute during all the time that I have wasted watching Soccer ...
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Entry for 12th November, 2007
2008-01-05 18:48:00
Here is my list of the Top 10 Films made by the Lanarkshire Film Co-operative ? The Buckfast and the Furious From Wishy with Love Scotch Pie Another Day Fauldhouse of Flying Daggers Special Brew Over the Cuckoo?s Nest Nedfellas The Princess?s Bridie Bar Trek Steven King?s Carrie Oot Gowkthrapplian Beauty (This one?s a short)
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Entry for October 31, 2007
2007-12-31 00:12:00
I shall report to you shortly on the re-union. I am unable to do so on account of a very bad hangover. Many angry bees appear to have got into my head overnight. I am pleased to say that most of my old school chums are not subscribing to the Scottish Executive's Health Nazi policy of promoting sensible drinking. The folly of this policy is self-evident: this is Scotland; it is nearly Hogmanay - why on earth does everybody in the world want to come here? Is it because we can tell you how many units of alcohol are in a luke warm pineapple Bacardi Breezer, or is it because everyone in the whole country is completely hammered and having a brilliant time? Fair enough, we may may all have stinking hangovers the next day, and we may be hastening the grim-reaper's elbow as his scythe swings closer to our throat, but this is the Party Season. It is up to us if we want to get drunk.
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Entry for October 30, 2007
2007-12-29 17:36:00
One of the nice things about having kids is that you re-discover a whole lot of things that you had largely forgotten about. Here are a few - Crayons! (I had even forgotten how they smell). How good it was to lie in bed with your mum and dad on a Sunday morning. Whole milk (oh, oh, oh is so creamy and good. Semi skimmed thy name is devil). The joy of slapstick (Ok - I hadn't completely forgotten this one, but it is nice to have one's taste confirmed). Peekaboo! Children's telvision (particularly the Asian presenter on CBeebies - one for the dads there boys). The smell of baby shampoo. How the world looks at 4am.
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Entry for October 29, 2007
2007-12-29 12:41:00
I am off to a re-union of old school friends this evening. This was all planned a few months back, following a flurry of e-mails. I think that we have all reached (or are rapidly approaching) the age of 40 and have realised that, if we don't see each other soon, at least one of us will be dead. If the evening goes badly, of course, it may be that one of us is killed this evening as a result of the stirring up of some half-forgotten feud. We're all meeting up at a Chinese restaurant in Larkhall. Inexplicably, the owners have missed out on the opportunity to name their establishment "The Orange Wok" which disappoints me no end. (I appreciate that this paragraph will mean nothing to readers outside the West of Scotland. Don't worry about it.) I'm looking forward to the evening. I expect that we are now of an age where we will no longer converse about music and women as we did when we were in our late teens. Instead, I anticipate that we will swap stories about operations, gall ston...
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Entry for October 28, 2007
2007-12-29 12:34:00
My fears about my eyes which I reported to you a couple of days ago have been confirmed. The optician peered at my poor old Meat Pies for a few hours through various scary looking instruments largely dating back to the days of the Lanarkshire Witch Trials, and then told me that my right eye was "badly damaged". This turned out to be more than the ususal statement of the bleeding obvious which gloating eye specialists tell me with glee whenever I see them. On this occasion it turns out that one of my contact lenses has been damaged and has been scoring my cornea. This, my optician informs me is "A Bad Thing". He then muttered something about "ulcers" and "excruciating pain". I have been told to wear glasses until further notice. This does not please me. This is partly vanity, and partly because I do not like having to go about my daily life with two vintage coke bottles strapped to my face whilst passersby chant "Speccy speccy freakboy". I am off to lie in my room in the huff for a w...
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Entry for October 27, 2007
2007-12-29 12:26:00
I am suffering from disturbed sleep patterns. You might say that this is normal for the father of two children under two, and you would, of course, be right. However, in my case, I am not being awoken by early morning wails for feeding. In fact the Round Faced Boy (who is sleeping in our room just now) is a rather good sleeper. In fact, the problem for me is that it is sometimes difficult to drop off because of the snores of my Significant Other and the Round Faced Boy. It is often like sharing a room with two very happy prize pigs. Their stereo snorting and snuffling makes me think that they are about to discover a horde of black truffles under the mattress. All of this is most unfair. I appreciate that my Significant Other requires to get out of bed during the middle of the night to feed the Round Faced Boy, and that my complaints may seem a little less than gallant. However, this is to forget one crucial fact: I am a man, and thus entitled to complain loudly and bitterly if I los...
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Entry for October 26, 2007
2007-12-29 00:49:00
What do women find so attractive about curly-haired fop Colin Firth? I hear them raving about how his torso sheathed in wet cotton leaves them weak at the knees. Well ladies, Colin leaves me cold. If ever I am to lie at wake thinking of a man to spirit me off to new realms of extasy, it will not be Colin that inhabits my dreams. Even the name - Colin - does not spirit up dreams of strong masculine arms. Would Arnold Schwarzenegger have leapt at the part of Colin the Barbarian? I don't think so. The mere thought of Colin Firth whispering sweet nothings in my ear with his hesitant public school tones is enough to leave me queasy. No! If I am to be whisked off by a man, then make it a real man. Give me Sean Connery or the beefy bloke out of Boyzone. You know they're the kind of man who would insist on extra bacon in their bap while our Colin is still trying to decide on Darjeeling or Earl Grey.
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Entry for October 25, 2007
2007-12-28 20:32:00
I am going to the opticians because I've been having a bit of bother with my contact lenses. I always cause a bit of a stir at the opticians. I'd like to think that this is because my dashing good looks (belying my age and the fast life I have lived, like a latter day James Bond) make me a hit with the girls at reception. Unfortunately this is not strictly accurate. Ok - it is not accurate in any way. The reason that opticians are interested in me is that my eyes are probably the most myopic in Western Europe. On top of that I've had surgery on one eye for a detached retina, and the other one had cryogenic work done on it. As a result whenever I go for my yearly check up, I seem to be examined carefully by several members of staff. In fact, the way that some of them point and shout "Look at the funny man with the bad eyes!" makes me suspect that there's a tent outside the back door where one of the receptionists is shouting to members of the general public: "Roll up, roll up, co...
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Entry for October 20, 2007
2007-12-26 20:31:00
I have been reading Derren Brown's book "Tricks of the Mind" today, and it's an intriguing read. Surprisingly, he gives away a lot of the tricks of his trade - and the book ranges widely on magic, hypnotism, mind-reading and so on and so forth. The section on hypnotism has put me in mind of my pal Dezzo, who used to do a bit of impromptu hypnotism when we were at school under the moniker The Great Dezondi. Under his expert guidance - gleaned from books in the "Adults Only" section of the library - friends an acquaintances would fall asleep, pretend to be spider-man and (entertainingly, if not entirely ethically) watch blue movies imagining that they were "Lassie Come Home". (This last one always puzzled me - for most adolescents it would surely have been better to induce the opposite hallucination - just think of the savings in video hire). The Great Dezondi reigned supreme for the all too brief party season of 1984. He'll now be forty just like me. I like to imagine him nowadays...
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Entry for October 19, 2007
2007-12-26 18:08:00
One of the good things about being a dad is that you get to watch Children's TV. I have recently discovered "In the Night Garden" which is quite easily the best thing on television. My daughter and I watch it every night before bedtime. Most of the humour seems to come from people falling over, and that's clearly something which is hysterical both to the 40 year old and the 20 month old in equal measure. We often decend into helpless laughter as characters tumble down hills. I was talking to my pal The Droll One the other day. He has also crossed the rubico and is a parent, and like me is a Night Garden addict. He correctly pointed out that it is clearly the best programme on telly because you never ever watch it and feel worse. Whenever you watch it, you always turn the TV off afterwards and feel that the world is an inherantly good place. Here is my brief guide to the most important characters - The Tumbleyboos love their trousers. Macca Pacca pats his sponge Iggle Piggle is a...
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Entry for October 18, 2007
2007-12-26 12:58:00
I started to put a baby gate up the other night. I was undeterred by my complete lack of experience and/or aptitude in joinery. You see, I am a man. And I have tools. Therefore I can do woodwork. My efforts were not entirely successful. Unless your definition of the term "successful" encompasses includes not fitting the babygate, drilling several unnecessary holes in an otherwise perfect wall, and spending a lot of money on the largest rawl plugs that money can buy. However, I am delighted to report that Alan B's First Law of DIY has yet again proved to be true.Every DIY job will take 4 times as long as you anticipate. Actually, the law may be a little optimistic, particularly if you include travel time to the local DIY shop to buy woodfiller and paint to patch up your botched efforts. The gate is still not up. Here is a list of things I now need to employ to remedy the situation - strap of wood saw workbench very very long screws screwdriver spirit level smaller screws woodfill...
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Entry for October 17, 2007
2007-12-26 00:12:00
My mum used to buy me odd gifts at Christmas time. Wallhangings and pants with strange logos and suchlike. One year she even knitted me a doll in the shape of a tiny flasher, complete with a little willy and some red mohair pubes. The worst present I ever got was from her. It was a mustard spoon. A tiny wooden mustard spoon. Even for a man who loves his condiments (and who that is truly a man does not love his condiments) that is a faintly odd and disappointing gift. But I think I get the point now. All the other gifts have gone. The jumpers, the computer games, the diaries. All the stuff I craved has gone. But every now and then I come across a mustard spoon. Or a set of windchimes. Or a daft pointless knitted doll. What I wouldn't give to open another parcel with some strange unwanted gift inside. x
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Entry for October 16, 2007
2007-12-26 00:04:00
I am addicted to amazon.com. It has taken me some time to admit it, but I hope you will all now be supportive as I battle through this difficult period of my life. At first I just browsed. Idle curiosity I suppose. I still bought my books in book shops, and my CDs in HMV. It was enough back then. But the pages on the website looked so - well - attractive. And soon I began to crave a more instant hit. Something a little bit more immediate. So I registered. A lot of my friends were doing it. It seemed safe enough. I'll never forget the first time. The thill of the package hitting my doormat. The ritual of fumbling with that tightly wrapped carboard cover, before I could get at the delicious contents. At first I thought I could control it. But soon the occasional purchase became a more regular thing. And then it really took hold. I'm ashamed to say it, but soon it was my homepage. But now, the lies and deceit are over. Help me through this please.
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Entry for October 15, 2007
2007-12-25 01:40:00
My book proofs are in! It is exciting to see the words all rejigged and looking rather smart in their new typeface. They seem to me to have been raw recruits when I sent them off to the publishers. A good sergeant major might spot a little potential, but really they had to be orgaaised at the typesetter's boot camp. Now they seem to be marching towards their passing out parade: neatly organised in ranks of orderly paragraphs. In celebration I allowed myself a trip to the stationery shop. Normally I am not allowed to go there on account of my problem. It's under control now. Really it is. I can control it. I can take or leave ringbinders. I might have the odd propelling pencil now and again, but I never use the hard stuff any more. My days of multicoloured highlighter packs and sheafs of pristine A4 are over. One fine tipped red pen won't push me over the edge again. Will it?
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Entry for October 14, 2007
2007-12-24 23:52:00
One Christmas Eve I intended to go Christmas shopping nice and early. But I got sidetracked. I say sidetracked, but what I meant to say was pissed. I made the mistake of popping into see my mate the Unshaven Dynamo, and he suggested that we go to the pub. And there we stayed, convincing one another that we could complete our festive shopping in ever shorter periods of time. As the empty pint tumblers multiplied on our table, so the clock ticked inexorably towards 5pm and eventually we could wait no longer. So, we shot off to the town centre. That was the year I gor my sister a Catwoman mask and a Count Duckula pencil case.
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Entry for October 13, 2007
2007-12-24 15:14:00
Although I am not a churchgoer, my Significant Other is. She takes the kids along. I have managed to overcome my lifelong objection to exposing young minds to religion before they are old enough to know better. I have done this on the basis that it is nice to get a long lie on a Sunday morning. I appreciate I may burn in hell for eternity for my shallow nature, but quite frankly it will be worth it for an undisturbed morning in bed with the Sunday Times and a cup of coffee. However, I am sorry I missed church this week. My Significant Other tells me that my daughter watched keenly as the priest was performing communion. As he held up the host to be blessed, my blue eyed girl announced with some excitement to the whole congregation - "Priest gotta chocla button!!!!" It got me thinking that the answer to falling congregations might well be to double check the translation of the bible. If the original Aramaic text actually indicates that the last supper didn't involve bread and wine,...
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Entry for October 12, 2007
2007-12-24 15:03:00
My theatre company has managed to secure the performing rights to "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" for next year's Edinburgh Fringe. I'm excited by the challenge. It's a big cast show - over 20 actors needed - so it'll be interesting to direct, and it'll also be good to meet new people. It's been a few months since I've done anything theatrical, and I've been missing it. So it feels good to get into all of the familiar prelimenaries - copying scripts, phoning actors, organising backstage meetings and so on and so forth. There's a comforting routine in these things. If anyone's interested in the show you can keep an eye on developments at www.practical-magic.org and if any regular readers are budding actors you can message me if you fancy an audition.
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Entry for October 11, 2007
2007-12-23 23:31:00
I bought an old French film the other day. "Betty Blue". I bought it for old times sake really. I have fond memories of going to see it with the Couch Potato back in the 1980s. We went to see it in a slightly run down student cinema in the West End of Glasgow. Couch had some money from his job. I had discovered the cinema in the cobbled streets of Ashton Lane. So we set off on a grand adventure that took us all of ten miles away from our suburban bedrooms. And into another world. A world of big blue skies, and passionate Gallic arguments and a heartstoppingly beautiful girl. We were blown away. We spilled out onto the pavement afterwards and the world seemed new and exciting and full of possibility. I am slightly afraid of watching the film again. It is still sitting in its cellophance wrapper. I fear that if I look at it through forty year old eyes, the skies will not be as blue, nor the girl as beautiful. I fear I will see flaws in the storyline, and clumsy direction. I fear my...
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Entry for October 10, 2007
2007-12-17 21:16:00
In the old days - the days before the arrival of the little round faced people - it was possible to be spontaneous. On a quiet Thursday evening me and my Significant Other could slip out the door and stroll happily up to the Indian restaurant, or the pictures. On a whim, I could lift the phone to a pal and nip out for a couple of pints in the local. However, those carefree days are gone. A night out now is like a military operation. Diaries must be co-ordinated at least two months in advance. Babysitters (now the most important people in the world) must be sought out, plied with gifts and secured. The narrow window of opportunity (7pm to 10.30pm) must be planned with precision - the restaurant forewarned that our starter had better be on the plate by 7.45pm or our evening will be ruined. Phones must be charged. Babies must be fed. Taxis booked. And still we slip out the door like guilty thieves.
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Entry for October 9, 2007
2007-12-16 18:00:00
There are dark forces at work amongst us. Those of us who know the One True Way must stay strong, for we face an enemy who would have us take part in a practice so monstrous, so inhuman, that it strikes to the core of all that is right and good in this place we call the world. I am speaking of Those Who Prepare Roasted Cheese Without Toasting The Bottom Of The Bread. I know. Even to mention this is enough to make all right-minded people quiver with disgust. But we the time for action has come. We must face up to the fact that they live and walk amongst us. Not for them the satisfying juxtaposition of crunchy toast with moist warm cheese. Instead, they sink their teeth into a soft underbelly of cool dough. And, as we all know, the only acceptable sauce with roasted cheese isWorscester, and the thought of the tangy bownn stuff soaked into the uncooked and absorbent bottom layer of what should be the king of snacks is enough to make my blood run cold. Do not accept it any longer. Stand...
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Entry for October 8, 2007
2007-12-16 12:06:00
I am emerging from my cocoon of work. I am blinking in the sunlight and testing out my new brightly coloured wings. And do you know what? It is nice to be a social butterfly once more, flitting gently around the country to see friends and family. Some of them don't seem to recognise me any more mind you. I can tell that by the way they hesitate when I invite them out for a drink and by the way their eyes narrow as they try to work out where they have seen me before. That and the way they say "Who are you, and why are you inviting me out for a drink. Go away strange pasty faced man." I have persevered though and it has to be said that a festive snowball in a pal's flat leaves one with a warmer feeling than yet another late night in the library. And it is not just the alcohol.
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Entry for October 7, 2007
2007-12-06 00:53:00
I have been busy. I got the chance to submit a draft of a soap opera episode to the BBC. I suspect that nothing will come of it, but I had an utterly absorbing weekend preparing the draft. It culminated in staying up until 3.30am a couple of nights ago to re-write the whole thing before a deadline. It is odd. I''m not sure how to describe it, except to say that it is one of these unusual times that you enter a state I've called "flow". You know - when you've been driving and you blink and realise ten miles have passed - that's flow. Or if you love to paint, and three hours pass unnoticed - that's flow. I sometimes get it when I'm writing something. And more often when I'm directing shows. When you are absorbed and interested and crucially (for me at least) working on something. It doesn't really seem to happen so much when the activity is purely recreational. Happiness is a well sprung movement in a watch; or a piece of timber gliding through a sharp saw. It's the sound o...
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Entry for October 6, 2007
2007-11-15 20:53:00
Now that I have finished the book I have all this time available. I have so much time that I can actually walk around in it. It is like a big tent. The big Tent of Time. Inside the big Tent of Time there is a sofa and a copy of a frivolous magazine. There is also a PC with Yahoo 360 on permanently. Occasionally a ringmaster comes into the Tent of Time and announces with gusto - "Roll up roll up. Come and stroll lazily around our three rings of eternity. Or don't roll up. Sit on your bum instead. Watch that telly over there - there's wrestling on Channel 432. Eat this pie too. It's nice." And just outside the tent of time there's a little deck chair beside a stream. You can kick back with a nice glass of white and watch the hours and days roll by lazily, like leaves floating downstream. Twisting and turning. Always floating one way though. Out towards the sea. Which might be miles downstream, or might be just round that bend.
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Entry for October 5, 2007
2007-11-14 22:30:00
My book is submitted to the publishers. I thought I might feel more joy. However, in fact, I feel a bit like polar explorer I was watching on the telly the other night. He was recreating a 50 day trek across the ice using equipment from the early 20th century. He wound up manhauling his sledge across the ice. At the end, when utterly exhausted he reached the coast, he took off his harness, looked at the sledge and, without any great happiness said that he wasn't going to haul the bloody thing another inch. I'm off to put my research materials in the cupboard.
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Entry for October 4, 2007
2007-10-18 19:16:00
I am up to my ears in The Divorce etc. (Provision of Information) (Scotland) Regulations. t is not an enormous amount of fun. When I decided to write a book, I envisaged myself drinking late night coffee and romantically scribbling perfectly formed sentences during the wee small hours. Obscure statutory instruments are not romantic. If Emily Bronte had written one, I suspect that Kate Bush would not have sung about it. "Heathcliff, let me in to hear Regulation Three-ee-eee-eeeeee. I love it when you quote statutory regulation to me-eee-eeee-eeeee."
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