A Picture Tells A Thousand Words

There's a widespread belief that comics are a juvenile artform.

 

That somehow, just because a story is illustrated, it is somehow less deserving of appreciation than if it were told by means of words alone.

 

To which I say - utter nonsense.

 

I've always been an afficionado of comic books, although it took a lengthy hiatus between my early teenage years and my acquiring (as a present from Mrs Wife) Frank Miller's Dark Knight Batman books a couple of years ago.

 

But there are dozens of comics and graphic novels that more than stand their own amongst the great novels of our time.

 

As well as the Miller's Dark Knight books - particularly The Dark Knight Returns, which chronicles the exploits of an aging Batman returning to fight crime after a period of retirement - titles such as Watchmen, Wanted, Sin City, Superman: Red Son, Kick-Ass and the Marvel Civil War epic are all worthy of high praise.

 

Without comics, many of the biggest (which, I concede, doesn't necessarily mean best) movies of the last 50 years would never have seen the light of day.

 

Alan Moore's Watchmen even appears on TIME magazine's list of the 100 greatest novels of all time - an honour I don't expect will ever be bestowed upon Harry Potter or Dan Brown.

Pig's Ear

I'm reading a book at the moment, Pig Island by Mo Hayder, that is set in and around my former stomping ground, Mid Argyll.

It's interesting and entertaining to read a thriller set in a part of the world I know so well.

But what is irritating is that there are factual inaccuracies that leave me questioning the author's knowledge of the local area.

She mentions Oban having cobbled streets - but I don't recall any. She mentions that Oban Police Station is a brick building on the main street. But it's a sandstone building away from the town centre.

Inveraray (misspelt Inverary throughout) has a Superdrug and a Holland and Barrett - which will be news to its residents. Not only has it been turned into a major shopping centre, it's now only 15 miles from Crinan - or Crinian as Hayder insists on spelling it throughout the book.

These mistakes are so annoying that I'm almost tempted to give up on the book.

Which is a shame, as it's an otherwise entertaining read.

Gone But Never Forgotten

Mrs Wife's uncle died today after a lengthy illness.

Although I'd only known him a few years, I'll miss him greatly. He was one of the kindest, most generous, friendliest and funniest people I've ever met.

Every minute spent in his company, even the hungover ones, is one that I'll treasure, and the world is a considerably poorer place today than yesterday.

Gone but never forgotten.

Season 2009/2010: Match 14: Montrose v Livingston

Yesterday I was at what will probably be the last match I'll attend this season, Scotland's worst team facing the newly-crowned Division Three champions.

Shock of shocks, Montrose got pumped 5-0. They played well enough in the first half, but conceded the first just five minutes before half time.

The second half was a complete write-off though, and Montrose will be glad to see the back of it and this miserable season.

Steven Tweed has 13 players signed up for next season. But that doesn't exactly fill anyone with confidence. There have been brief flashes of decent play over the course of the season, but it's generally been a long hard slog.

At least Livingston, the most morally (and financially) bankrupt side in Scottish football are gone from the division. Clyde are coming down next season, and I'd expect them to be favourites to bounce straight back up.

But for Montrose, anything better than bottom will be a start....

Friday Ten: My 10 Favourite Pubs

As I count down the hours here at work ahead of a colleague's leaving do, I've been remembering my favourite licensed establishments from around the world. Only one criteria - I have to have had a drink in the pub in question.

 

1: The Elephant and Wheelbarrow, Perth, Western Australia - As well as being my favourite watering hole in the world, the Elephant and Wheelbarrow is also a former employer, Mrs Wife and I having spent four months working there in 2004. Twelve hour shifts may not have been entirely pleasant, but the pub became a second home where we ate, drank and made lifelong friends.

 

2: Bar Kohl, Edinburgh - Not a pub as such, but Bar Kohl on George IV Bridge in Edinburgh is a fantastic place to have a drink, courtesy of the hundreds of flavoured vodkas it stocks. A pitcher of the Fab cocktail - based on the ice lolly and containing strawberry, chocolate and vanilla vodka, milk and chocolate sprinkles - is not to be missed.

 

3: Craiglockhart Student Union, Napier University, Edinburgh - Where I spent hours and a huge portion of my student loan in first year at university. In a stroke of genius, the bar was part of the same building as the halls of residence, which were both extensions to the Craiglockhart Hydropathic Hospital building, made famous as a war hospital whose patients included Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. The union had everything required - cheap beer, a pool table, a cracking jukebox and lots of students. I believe that the union, and the halls of residence, have now been demolished, taking with them the first adult memories of an entire generation.

 

4: Centre Court, Edinburgh - After the student union, this was the second closest pub to the halls of residence. A good selection of beers on tap, cracking food and occasional karaoke nights were always a winner.

 

5: The Cafe Bar, Northern Hotel, Brechin - Now just a memory, having been revamped and turned into Hudson's, this small and fairly dingy bar was generally the starting point for most of our nights out when my friends and I were teenagers. A cheap pool table and cheap beer in a quiet wee pub always seemed like the best way to start an evening. Again, memories of shambolic karaoke, live bands and nights when the pub didn't even have standing room come flooding back.

 

6: The Merlin, Edinburgh - Since my student days, this bar has undergone numerous refurbishments and reopenings, but it was our drinking den of choice when my flatmates and I were in third and fourth years. Great food and comfy sofas often meant that several of us could be sprawled there for extended periods when we should really have been working on our dissertations.

 

7: The Elephant and Wheelbarrow, Melbourne - Sister establishment to my favourite pub, the Melbourne branch is less cosy and generally far busier, given that it's located in Melbourne's CBD. Another three months working here helped pay the bills, and again we made friends that we've kept in touch with over the intervening six years.

 

8: Springfield House, Brechin - Another favourite from the latter years of my schooldays, the Springfield was the hostelry favoured by the sixth years of Brechin High School in 1997 and 1998. By a quirk of fate, it was also the closest pub to the school, but it found favour not because of that but because it was big, had a beer garden, a pool table and a selection of board games. And it seemed to be quite easy for underage drinkers to get served....

 

9: Aitchie's Ale House, Aberdeen - Not quite the closest boozer to my office, but almost visible from the window I sit at. A real traditional pub with excellent staff and fine pints, many a great works night out has begun in Aitchie's.

 

10: Satellite Sports Cafe, Amsterdam - The simplest concept in foreign drinking: Fill a pub with televisions showing 20 football matches simultaneously on a Saturday afternoon, and the punters won't mind paying six euros a pint. On my only visit to Amsterdam for a stag party, we spent eight uninterrupted hours in this place, which also boasts table service from attractive Dutch barmaids. Flawless (aside from the six euro pints).

Jan Wouters' Comedy Moustache

Courtesy of The Guardian's football website, I've come across this scanned copy of the complete Italia 90 Panini sticker album.

 

This was, I think, the first football sticker album I owned, or I at least had the British version of it. But I came nowhere near to finishing it.

 

1990 was when I began taking a serious interest in football, and watching matches from that year's World Cup is still a fond memory from my childhood.

 

It's interesting looking back at the members of some of the squads who were stars at the time but who have been forgotten in the intervening two(!) decades, or those who achieved much more after the tournament.

 

Scotland's defence looks impressively solid - Miller, McLeish, Gough, Malpas and Gillespie (and Dave McPherson). Andy Goram (or one of them) and Stuart McCall look so fresh-faced.

 

The hairdos sported by the two Colombian goalkeepers are fantastic - and you'd have thought that Carlos Valderama would easily scoop the worst haircut award from that squad.

 

I very much doubt that any of the players in the book are still playing today, but Paolo Maldini, who turned 22 during Italia 90, isn't long retired.

 

And finally, 20 years later, the name of South Korea's Sang-Bum Gu, which Baby Brother and I found so amusing in 1990, still makes me smile.

 

 

Things I Hate: Volume 1: Toilet Seats

OK, first off, I know that this blog has in the past repeatedly been about things I hate.

 

But I feel that now, as I hit my 30s and Grumpy Old Man status, it's time I began cataloguing my dislikes more systematically.

 

So, first up, toilet seats.

 

I don't hate toilet seats. Far from it. They provide a necessary service in the world, and I wouldn't want to be without them.

 

But I hate toilet seats that don't stay up of their own accord, requiring the use of one hand to maintain their upright position during non-seated toilet-based operations.

 

This is especially taxing in the middle of the night, when I'm doing my best to avoid waking up fully - taking care of business on autopilot if you like.

 

I know women feel the need to constantly fret about toilet seats being left up, so I'm assuming that the automatically falling toilet seat is a female invention.

 

And when was anything useful ever invented by a woman?

 

(Even more annoying is the potentially fatal toilet seat that lulls the urinator into a false sense of security by staying upright until the action is underway....)

GSOH?

Mrs Wife and I have just returned from a long weekend on Arran, of which there may be more later.

But for now I simply repeat, without comment, this classified ad from The Arran Banner:

60+ non-drinking male with new zest for life, seeks company of soignée lady in 25-80 age group to help find lost libido. Must have acute sense of humour and tolerance of cigarette smoke. Apply in confidence to Box No 157 or phone Tony at Lamlash.

Hello, I Love You

I've been committing that worst of bloggy sins over the past few weeks, months and years - neglect.

For various reasons, some of which I may blog about and some of which I won't, I haven't had the motivation to post my inane and semi-coherent nonsense to the worldwide interweb as often as I once did.

And further disgraceful behaviour has also seen me neglect those far-flung corners of the blogosphere where I was once a regular visitor.

I have decided that the time has come to right these wrongs and attempt to restore my browsing habits to their former glories.

And if more than 10 people want to read my barely-literate ramblings in the process?

That would be most welcome.

Season 2009/2010: Match 13: Montrose v Annan Athletic

As Montrose's season from hell draws to an inglorious climax, it seemed as though the side had remembered that they can be half decent.

Steven Tweed received the Division Three Manager of the Month award for March for masterminding Montrose's brief jump off the bottom of the bottom division.

But normal service was resumed yesterday, with the team finding themselves two down inside 12 minutes.

Neither side was much cop, but Annan wanted it more in the first half. The second half saw them come into the game a bit more, and they were unlucky not to salvage a draw, with one shot cleared off the line before Stephen McNally's 89th minute consolation.

Montrose have just one home match left this season, and we'll be glad to see the back of a campaign that was so utterly horrendous - the Scottish Cup run excluded.

It Was Thirty Years Ago Today....

....That I took my first lungfuls of air in Ninewells Hospital, Dundee.

This photograph was taken a bit later when I was Christened.

Death and Taxes

Even death doesn't excuse poor parking in London.

Moody Blues

I think the Magic Tune Box was in as foul a mood as I was this afternoon....

....there are more than 23,000 songs on it, but set to shuffle, the first four that came on were by Nirvana, Metallica, Marilyn Manson and The Offspring.

I'm sure it's alive and tuned in to my moods....

Season 2009/2010: Match 12: Montrose v Forfar

You wait eight months for a home league win, then when it does it's a four-goal derby destruction.

 

I don't know what happened last night, but something in the Montrose team clicked and they actually looked as though they wanted to play football for a change.

 

Even Chris Hegarty's red card on the cusp of half time (I've now lost track of how many times he's been sent off this season, but it's at least three) did little to dent Montrose's ambition - they scored their second goal less than a minute later and added two more in the second half.

 

The sending off was ridiculous - Chris Hegarty won a free kick in the middle of the park and went to take it quickly. But a Forfar player was standing in front of the ball and it cannoned back off his shins. I'm not sure whether Hegarty was booked for slamming the kick off his opponent or for moaning about it, but he was dismissed for his second yellow card.

 

But Montrose's performance was well worthy of the win. There was passion and commitment, not to mention excellent performances from Tweed, McNally, Gemmell and Milligan in particular. Forfar were very poor, as you would expect of a side pumped 4-0 by a 10-man team that hadn't previously won a league game at home.

 

It felt like winning a cup final last night, when in fact it was just a league win, and an essentially meaningless one at that. But the performance was enough to suggest that a corner has been turned.

Let Me Stand Next To Your Fire

I'd LOVE to see this guy's band live. Or auditioning for the X Factor or Britain's Got Talent.

Heineken Football Festival

Rangers: The Kenny Dalglish Dream Team Years

Click on the picture to read about Kenny Dalglish's ambitious plans to rebuild Rangers in the mid-1990s.

Season 2009/2010: Match 11: Montrose v Albion Rovers

It just occurred to me that I neglected to write a report of the most recent match I was at, Montrose's reschuled clash with Albion Rovers.

 

A Tuesday night in March isn't the ideal time to be watching a game on the shore of the North Sea, but I was nevertheless able to convince Mrs Wife to come with me to Links Park.

 

And it seems that she might be something of a good luck charm, as Montrose didn't lose. They didn't win, and they didn't score any goals, but when you follow the worst team in Scotland, a point is a point.

 

Montrose were the better side for much of the match, dominating and coming close to scoring on a number of occasions. I've been no fan of Steven Tweed's on-pitch contributions, but he gave one of the more assured performances of his Montrose career and helped the defence look more settled than has been the case of late.

 

Even a late sending off did nothing to dampen Montrose's spirits, when even a goalless home draw feels like a win.

Do The Colours Of The Rainbow Look The Same To Everyone?

This is one of the best optical illusions I've ever seen.

Season 2009/2010: Match 10: Aberdeen v Hearts

Courtesy of a spare season ticket, I accompanied friend to Pit O'Dire today to watch Aberdeen take on fellow SPL shitehawks Hearts.

It was freezing down at the beach, and I was soon thinking better of my decision to accept the free ticket.

From the start, this game had 0-0 written all over it. Aberdeen's midget central midfield were poor and both Kerr and McDonald were lucky to stay on the park for a series of semi-brutal challenges. Darren Mackie remains the world's worst striker. And Hearts are a thuggish side with little in the way of inspiration.

It was a red card that changed the course of the game, Laryea Kingston shown a straight red for a kung fu kick. From there on in, Hearts never looked back, defending in numbers and slicing Aberdeen open more regularly than had been the case with a full team.

They finally took the lead in the second half through an overhead kick, with the Hearts players queuing up to score and the Aberdeen defence missing in action.

Aberdeen became more desperate, but couldn't find an equaliser, let alone a winner.

Neither of these sides has much in the way of class, but Aberdeen should be especially worried given their recent poor run of form. It's still not too late for them to be sucked into a relegation battle.

We can but dream....

Flaming Eck

On this evening's STV news bulletin, Alex Salmond said "I can think of nothing more exciting than living in the North East of Scotland."

I'm willing to test that theory. If anyone has a wad of cash they're not needing, I'll buy a boat and sail it across the Atlantic with Salmond towed behind in an inflatable dinghy.

Arriving in the US, I'll make my way to the next space shuttle launch, attach Eck to the outside of the shuttle with a combination of superglue and staples, paint him in sugar and release a swarm of hornets.

As an added bonus, I'll also set his testicles on fire.

I wonder if he'll be able to imagine anything more exciting than a life in Fraserburgh after that?

Season 2009/2010: Match 9: Montrose v Elgin

I give up.

I've spent a lot of money watching Montrose over the past few years - as I've become fond of saying £140 is a lot of money to watch joiners playing football.

It's even more money to watch them not play football.

Saturday's match was an opportunity for The Worst Team In Scotland to close the gap on The Second Worst Team In Scotland.

Elgin are gash. As are all of the teams in Division Three, with the possible exception of Livingston, who are marginally less gash due to being the only full-time side in the division.

The Montrose team of two seasons ago would have demolished this Elgin side. But that seems like a lifetime ago, and this Montrose side lack confidence, ability, composure and everything else associated with a football team on the up.

It's beyond a joke now. The team and the club are a laughing stock.

I am seriously considering jacking it in. £10 a week to sit in a freezing cold concrete shed to watch whatever random assortment of Toms, Dicks and Harrys Steven Tweed is fielding this week isn't feeling like a sensible decision nowadays. The official attendance was 280 on Saturday, but that was a guess because nobody was bothering to count the poor souls trickeling through the gate. I'd have said it was below 250.

Most people have stopped caring. I include the players in that. The only one who seemed to give a toss got sent off in the first half for a second booking.

Missing Chris Hegarty, the side immediately went into freefall, conceding goals either side of half time. By the time Elgin added a brace in second half injury time, any hope of a comeback was long abandoned.

The Worst Team In Scotland? It's not even a competition any more

Database

At yesterday's Montrose match, I found myself sitting beside former Brechin City manger Ian Fleming, who led the club to a title way back in 1982.

Afterwards, I was rummaging around the internet trying to find out how long he was at Glebe Park, when I stumbled upon this site - a database listing every UK post war football transfer, as well as the statistics for each player at each club.

The wealth of information here is astounding - just an idle flick through its pages and pages of data makes it look like the work of several lifetimes.

And a quick dip into the Rangers page makes for interesting reading. Erik Bo Andersen hit 15 goals in 23 appearances; Shota Arveladze 44 in 95; Gordon Durie 44 in 125; Gazza 30 in 74; and Mark Hateley 85 in 165 in his first spell at Ibrox.

I had presumed that Durie scored far more than that, and that Gascoigne had played more games. I was also sure that Hateley had scored more than 100 goals for Rangers, although perhaps the total given is for league goals only.

And Terry Hurlock only played 29 games for the club. He was my first Rangers cult hero - stepping out onto the pitch to inflict GBH on whoever came near him. His description as a "Millwall hardman" should have said it all.

Season 2009/2010: Match 8: Montrose v Queen's Park

It's been an interesting couple of weeks in the story of Montrose's season - a first league win followed by a trip to Easter Road for a Scottish Cup skelping.

With the positives from those two performances, neither of which I was able to witness, I was fairly optimistic that today would be the day that Montrose broke their home league duck.

It was a bright, crisp day today and Montrose started with a refreshing spring in their step, testing the Hampden side on a number of occasions.

They finally took the lead in the 36th minute, Paul Tosh netting his fifth goal since moving to Links Park.

Stephen McNally, newly acquired from Forfar, was Montrose's best player, giving the defence an air of solidity from his right back berth. He also came close to an audacious goal, spotting Mark McGeown out of position and forcing the goalkeeper to make a desperate diving save from a 45-yard free kick wide on the right.

But Montrose's omnipresent hesitancies cost them again, the defenders at fault for both of Queen's Park's second half goals.

In the end though, it was dubious refereeing that cost Montrose, with Tosh having two perfectly legitimate goals disallowed for offside.

There were positives in the performance, not least the contributions made by McNally and fellow new signing Stevie Nicholas. But the sooner Montrose see the back of 2009/2010, the better.

Today's crowd - 325. A week after Montrose took 548 fans to Easter Road. Disgusting.

The Finest In African Journalism

And in bum sex scandals of course.

Breaking News

Groanin' Jock, bringing you all the important things in life - Scottish pussy (apparently), Montrose Football Club and pictures of John Terry.




(Click on the picture to bigify it if necessary.)

Good Morning

Up at 8am on a Sunday morning - this had better be worth it....

The Truth

I thought it was about time you all knew the truth about me.

Season 2009/2010: Match 7: Montrose v East Stirlingshire

Having missed last week's Links Park 4-5 thriller, today was my first live football match of 2010, and the first I've seen since mid-December.

Anyone hoping for a match as exciting as the previous week's must have been was sorely disappointed. The most exciting thing that happened (even more exciting than Shire's 18th minute winner) was the referee injuring himself and the stadium announcer sending out a call around the stadium for a registered referee or linseman.

Thankfully (or not, given the dire fare on show today) one of the matchday stewards also doubles as a match official and ran the far side touchline for the second half.

Montrose were abysmal. I don't think they had a shot on target - in fact, they had barely any shots at all. Shire were better, but never looked like they had to step out of first gear.

There can be no denying now that Montrose are the worst team in the country by a long, long way. Aside from John Maitland, not one of the players looked remotely confident. Allied with that was a complete lack of ideas.

Steven Tweed may have a long-term contract as Montrose's player-manager, but something needs to change. Only the Scottish Cup run has injected any enthusiasm into a dire season, but that run will certainly end at Easter Road in a fortnight's time.

It's been a grim winter with more grimness yet to come.

Friday Ten - Ten Songs or Albums That Remind Me Of Different Places and Times

Whenever I hear one of these records, I am automatically transported back in time.

1) Nessun Dorma - Luciano Pavarotti: Any time I hear the last minute or so of Nessum Dorma, I'm 10 years old and spending the summer holidays with my Granny and Grampa in Brechin. The World Cup is on the BBC every day, and the green pitches seem especially bright under the Italian floodlights. Every match is preceded and followed by the tournament's adopted theme tune, bellowed by Pavarotti. This piece of music is a whole mish-mash of different memories - watching the matches in my Granny and Grampa's house, recreating Salvatori Schillachi's bug-eyed goal celebrations and Packie Bonner's penalty saves in Brechin Public Park, and generally playing more football in a day than my legs could now manage in a month.

2) This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours - Manic Street Preachers: This was the last album I bought before moving to Edinburgh for university at 18. In the flurry of leaving drinks, packing, work and general excitement in the week leading up to the move, I barely listened to the album. But once I'd unpacked in my new home in Craiglockhart Halls of Residence and set my stereo up, this album remained in the CD player for a while afterwards. All of the tracks are now forever associated with that first week away from home and the exciting new world it presented.

3) Who Killed The Zutons? - The Zutons: One of the first albums I bought after returning from a year traveling around the world, this coincided with me buying a car and an in-car CD player and getting a job with the Oban Times. As I scooted around the town from Mrs Wife's folks' house to the office, the Liverpudlians' first album became the soundtrack to that first week as a full-time journalist.

4) A Grand Don't Come For Free - The Streets: A few months into our round the world jaunt in 2003-2004, Mrs Wife and I were skint and living hand-to-mouth in Perth, Western Australia. One of my friends took pity and sent across a pile of albums to help pass the time. Later, when we were based in Melbourne, he did the same again, just before we started traveling down Australia's east coast by bus. One of the CDs was The Streets' second album, and I would often listen to it on overnight bus journies, this curious English concept album soundtracking sleepless nights staring out into the pitch-black bush.

5) Love Is Noise - The Verve: The Verve's fourth album was released the day I set off for Norway for the first time with work. I'd decided before leaving that Love Is Noise would be my anthem for the three-day jaunt, and I listened to the track any time I had a spare five minutes. I also drove my colleagues to distraction by singing it at all other times, including making an odd hooting noise to recreate the instruments. Any time I hear it now, I'm back in Stavanger in the summer sunshine.

6) Be Here Now - Oasis: Oasis opened the concerts on their Be Here Now tour of 1997 with the song of the same name, and any time I hear it I can remember the excitement of being in the front row, my arms squeezed against the barrier to stop my ribs snapping, as the band burst out of a red phonebox and straight into this song.

7) Did You Miss Me? - The Cooper Temple Clause: When working in a canteen while at university in 2001, I would arrive at 8am on Saturday morning (not a student-friendly time of the weekend), hook up my CD player and stick on my favourite album of the time, The Cooper Temple Clause's majestic debut See This Through and Leave. The opening keyboard refrain still helps perk me up on occasion, although I don't have an endless supply of bacon rolls and Coke on hand any more.

8) Death Trip 21 - Ash: In 1999, five of us from university went to Ireland for 10 days. These were the days of portable tape players, and my friends and I swapped compilation tapes. Strangely, the only track I can remember putting on mine is Death Trip 21 by Ash, from their Nu-Clear Sounds album. Hearing it now reminds me of the train ride from Belfast to Dublin.

9) In The Meantime - Spacehog: This song reminds me of the same holiday, as it was on the jukebox in the hostel we stayed in in Dublin. We were in the Irish capital in mid-April, but it was hammering down with snow for most of our time there. So we spent a lot of time in the hostel bar, and this song got a few airings during our stay.

10) Here, There and Everywhere - The Beatles: The first dance at our wedding. Mrs Wife had this on her list of potential first dances from her teenage years, and it was an easy choice to make. It also features in the episode of Friends where Phoebe gets married, played on a steel drum, but ours was the Fabs' version.

Forfar Four East Fife Five

I'm full of the cold and skint, so decided that spending a tenner to sit in a concrete shed in the pishing rain wasn't the best way to spend this afternoon.

Therefore, I chose not to go to Links Park for Montrose's hastily rearranged fixture with Stranraer.

Sitting on the comfortable Dungroanin' sofa, I had Jeff Stelling, Paul Merson, Charlie Nicholas and Phil Thompson for company as they kept the nation informed of the latest football scores on Soccer Saturday.

When Stranraer raced into an early 2-0 lead, I was glad I'd stayed at home.

When Montrose pulled it back to 2-2 just before half time, I said to Mrs Wife that I was now sure I was about to miss Montrose's first league win of the season.

Sure enough, they bagged another couple and found themselves 4-2 up with just 14 minutes left.

At that point, I considered driving down to the ground, walking in through the open gates and applauding the team from the pitch after a memorable comeback and much-needed three points.

But somehow, in those remaining minutes, Montrose contrived to lose THREE goals and match itself.

Even from the safety of my own settee, following Montrose is a harrowing experience.

Scrambled

On Monday I'll be making my televisual debut when I travel to Glasgow with five colleagues to film an episode of the BBC quiz show Eggheads.

We've all competed in pub quizzes and the company's annual quiz night, but this will be our first attempt at stepping up a huge number of levels to challenge "the UK's greatest quiz team".

It's an odd show in that you have no idea how much of a prize you're competing for until you start filming. If we're unfortunate enough to follow a team that wins, we'll be attempting to win £1,000, which isn't much when split six ways. But then the highest win in the programme's history is £75,000, which would be most welcome.

We've been in semi-serious training since we found out that we were definitely due to film an episode of the programme, organising lunchtime bouts of Trivial Pursuit to test the grey matter.

The upshot of this is that I've been nominated as our participant should any of the following question rounds come up: Music, Film & Television or Science.

I'm hoping that I get a crack at Music or Film & TV before Science comes up - I'd hate to be eliminated before getting a shot at my stronger subjects.

But it's just a case of wait and see.

Here's hoping we make a game of it on Monday....

I Have A Bad Feeling About This

Generally speaking, I'm a fairly easy-going, liberal-minded kinda fellow.

 

As long as your personal perversions are within the limits of the law and it involves only consenting adults, then I'm of the opinion that we should live and let live.

 

But a Star Wars-themed burlesque show? That's just a tad freaky.

 

I certainly don't fancy C3PO much.

 

Although I might suggest Mrs Wife gets herself one of those Storm Trooper costumes....

No Weighting

This week, I have begun the latest skirkmish in what has been a long-fought and tempestuous battle.

 

Following the festive excesses, I weighed myself at the weekend and found that I've never been heavier, tipping the scales at almost 15 stone.

 

I'm not a small man - I'm 6' 0.5" tall (not "six and a half foot" as one nurse told me when I had a medical a few years back), wide-shouldered and broad-chested.

 

I've never been what one would call slim, and even at my athletic peak around 12 years (gulp!) ago, I was "robust".

 

But now, according to all recognised sources, I'm officially overweight.

 

Which means cutting out a lot of things I really like and doing a few that I don't really like.

 

Gone are the chocolates, sweeties, milshakes, ice creams and pies.

 

In come lunch breaks spent pounding the treadmills at my gym.

 

I'm assuming that my body, beginning the slow (but not slow enough) final approach into its 30s, will be increasingly reluctant to give up its roll of fat, especially as I begin to starve it of the calories, saturated fats and sugar to which it has become accustomed

 

In a previous weightloss effort, I lost more than a stone in a fortnight just by cutting out my daily two pints of milk.

 

I can see this attempt being considerably harder....

 

British Bunnies

More shameless plugging in this post - Mrs Wife has launched her own business.

British Bunnies (http://www.britishbunnies.co.uk/) caters for all your rabbit needs, with advice on your lagomorph's diet, health, training and welfare. It also has a directory of rabbit holiday accommodation and a fantastic forum to discuss all things bunny-related.

Cash In

This humble outpost of the worldwide interweb is normally an advertising-free zone, but I'll make an exception for my latest discovery, AW Surveys, which pays decent cash for surveys that take only 30 seconds each. Well worth a look - just click on the picture below.

Vanilla Ice

This NASA image of Great Britain earlier this week is excellent.

 

(As seen on the BBC's site.)

Even Snowmen Do It

 

Slide Away

As seen on another blog that I would link to if it wasn't "members only".

The 2009 Jock Awards

I'm sprawled on the couch at Dungroanin', enjoying the post-festive lull, so it seems the ideal time to host the awards ceremony no-one is waiting for, the 2009 Jock Awards.

The Stone Roses award for Album of The Year: (Nominees: The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love; Manic Street Preachers - Journal For Plague Lovers, Doves - Kingdom of Rust; The Prodigy - Invaders Must Die; Kasabian - West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum)
A few weeks back, I was discussing the year's best albums with a couple of friends. At that time, I was fairly certain it had been a pretty poor year for records. But looking back through the Magic Tune Box, it seems I'd simply forgotten that a number of pretty darn good albums were released this year. Of the five best, I'm torn between The Decemberists' folk concept album, Doves' grandiose indie guitar and The Prodigy's startling return to form. Pushed for a decision, I'd have to go with The Decemberists and their woodlands-based tale of a lady called Margaret.

The Strawberry Fields Forever award for Single of The Year: (Nominees: The Prodigy - Warrior's Dance; Kasabian - Underdog; Gossip - Heavy Cross; Lily Allen - The Fear; Florence and The Machine - You've Got The Love)
Just as The Verve's Love Is Noise soundtracked my summer in 2008, Kasabian's Underdog was my tune of choice for most of this year. Chiming guitars, heavy beats and a sound taking the Madchester sound forward again, no other track inspired me the way that the first glimpse of Kasabian's latest lunacy did.

The Rolling Stones award for Live Act of The Year: (Nominees: Take That, Neil Young, AC/DC, Them Crooked Vultures, Jane's Addiction)
If this was a bumper year for albums, it was a phenomenal year for live music. This was the year I saw Neil Young and AC/DC for the first time, as well as the disappointment of Dylan. Take That's show was head and shoulders the most complex I've ever seen, eclipsing even The Rolling Stones and U2, while AC/DC pulled off stadium rock with the ease of grizzled veterans. But the single greatest performance was Neil Young's at the Aberdeen Exhibition and Conference Centre. A "best of" set that found Mr Young in sparkling form, he was phenomenal from start to finish, climaxing with a howling take on The Beatles' A Day In The Life.

The Goodfellas Award for Movie of the Year: (Nominees: Paranormal Activity; Watchmen; Star Trek; The Boat That Rocked)
Mrs Wife and I haven't been to the cinema as often as normal this year, and we wasted two cinema trips on the disappointing Transformers 2 and Terminator: Salvation. And we still haven't seen Avatar or Sherlock Holmes. My choice for movie of the year would be Paranormal Activity, proving that you don't need a multi-million dollar budget to keep your audience on the edge of their seats.

The Knight Rider award for TV Programme of The Year: (Nominees: Fringe; True Blood; Spooks; Generation Kill; FlashForward)
Another good year for television and justification for owning a Sky+ box. Most of the really good stuff continues to come from across the Atlantic, and it was True Blood, the televised adaptation of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, that led the way. I've always been a sucker for a vampire story set in the modern age, from The Littlest Vampire through The Lost Boys and onwards. True Blood just continued the trend.

The Marilyn Monroe award for Babe of The Year: (Nominees: Salma Hayek; Nadine Coyle; Cheryle Cole; Beyonce Knowles; Michelle Keegan)
Assuming, as always, that Mrs Wife is the genuine winner of this category from now until the end of the Blogosphere, I'd happily take any of the above nominees as runner-up (or all five together with whipped cream and chocolate sauce). But for the sake of handing out the gong, it's Salma Hayek who walks away as the "winner".

The Jet Set Willy Award for Computer Game of The Year: (Nominees: Football Manager 2010; Rock Band)
The only guaranteed shoo-in of all the awards, Football Manager continues to go from strength to strength, this year with an overhaul of its match engine and the ability to create competitions - the Scottish League pyramid system created by one gifted fan is simply amazing.

The Godfather III award for Biggest Disappointment of The Year: (Nominees: The death of Michael Jackson; Bob Dylan live; Transformers 2; Arctic Monkeys' third album)
Bob Dylan was horrendous live. Of all the concerts I saw this year, that was by far the worst. But the biggest disappointment of the year was undoubtedly the passing of the King of Pop, barely weeks before Mrs Wife and I were due to see him perform in London. We still had a great holiday in the Big Smoke, but his demise left a huge gap in our year and in the music world.

The Screamadelica award for Scottish Album of The Year: (Nominee: Miyagi - Scalextro South Americana)
I'm struggling to think of any notable contributions from north of the border, so this year's award goes to Miyagi, even if a four-track EP scarcely counts as an album. An odd mix of instruments harnessed together for a fantastic ensemble sound.

Merry Xmas Everyone

A very Happy Christmas to both of my readers.

Vultures Circling

Mrs Wife and I made the long, dark journey to Edinburgh last night to bask in the glow that only true legends can truly provide.

 

This was no mere journey to a gig - this was a chance to get up close and personal with genuine living, breathing rock behemoths the likes of which venture only rarely to these frozen Arctic wastelands.

 

The term supergroup has been used to describe Them Crooked Vultures since the moment they formed. Bring together Nirvana's drummer, Queens of the Stone Age's singer/guitarist and - the crowning achievement (in the eyes of many) - Led Zeppelin's bass player, and it becomes almost inevitable.

 

In truth, regarding Josh Homme as being in the same league as Messrs Grohl and Jones is a tad unrealistic, but the three certainly seem to be the best of friends.

 

I'd forgotten just how powerful a drummer Dave Grohl is. Only once before had I seen him behind a kit in the flesh, and it was for only five minutes during a Foo Fighters festival set.

 

But last night, in the comparatively small Corn Exchange, there was a chance to see him thump the tubs for the duration of a full concert.

 

A lot of the time, he's like Animal from the Muppets, wildly flailing arms, head bobbing furiously and a huge grin covering half his face. If there can be such a thing as controlled ferocity, Dave Grohl personifies it. His drumming literally sounded like artillery fire at times, yet there was never a dropped beat. On the sleazy flamenco of Interlude With Ludes, his rhythm became even more complex, seeming to involve wooden blocks and rim shots (behave) as well as cymbals.

 

Although Homme and live guitarist Alain Johannes contributed most to the vocals and guitars, the more obvious attention-grabber was John Paul Jones. These days, worryingly, he looks more like my mum's 50-something partner than half of the rhythm section from the most legendary groupie-shagging, devil-worshipping, drug-imbibing rock band this planet has ever seen.

 

But he can still play. There were nimble-fingered jazz-flecked bass solos, tender piano instrumentals, a whole track where he played only keytar and a general air of mild bemusement at the sheer awe with which the assembled fans greeted him.

 

The music? It sounded like Queens of the Stone Age with the fat stripped off - lean, heavy and loud. The band has far more character and gravitas on stage than was evident on its album.

 

Watch out for them coming to a festival near you next year.

Season 2009/2010: Match 6: Montrose v Annan Athletic

Some 0-0 draws feel like 0-0 draws from start to finish - few chances, aimless football lacking passion, skill and commitment from both sides and a feeling that 90 minutes is slowly turning into 90 turgid weeks.

Today's match at Links Park may have been a 0-0 draw, but it was entertaining from start until finish, both sides pressing forwards in the hunt for goals.

Montrose hit the crossbar, Annan twice hit the post, Daryl Nicol sent a shot over the crossbar from six yards out - in short, there was no shortage of chances.

Annan started the match with three former Montrose players in their side, but Greg Kelly, David Cox and Scott Anson went back to the borders with only a point. There were also three ex-Hibs players on show, in the forms of Montrose goalkeeper Andrew McNeil, who was outstanding, pulling off a series of acrobatic saves; Montrose player-manager Steven Tweed, who has looked increasingly confident over the past few weeks; and Derek Townsley, acting as player and assistant manager to Brechin City legend Harry Cairney.

Missing out on a first league win was a disappointment, but a point is still a welcome step forward. Montrose are definitely going to finish bottom of the bottom division this season, so now should be the time for getting a solid and experienced team set up for next season. Positive signs are beginning to show themselves, with a defence that is becoming harder to break down and a midfield with a good blend of grit and class. The attack still needs work, but I'm optimistic that the second half of the season can't possibly be as bad as the first....

Glaswegian Advent Calendar

 

I Suddenly Feel Very Old

It came as a shock today when I found out that I'm older than Chelsea captain John Terry.

Season 2009/2010: Match 5: Montrose v East Fife

You wait more than three months for a home win, and when it arrives it's in a cup tie against a team from a higher division boasting a player/manager who's a former Scotland international.

Stevie Crawford has been manager of East Fife since the start of the season, but I'm sure losing a Scottish Cup tie against lowly Montrose won't be terribly high on his list of achievements.

Montrose were the better team throughout and could have had half a dozen goals by half time. Steven Tweed had his best game in a Montrose shirt (or the best I've seen anyway), and the youngsters swarming around him were excellent.

Oddly, the victory arrived in a match in which Marek Tomana was confined to the bench. Maybe Tweed should drop his best player every week....

Bring on Rangers at Links Park.

To The Faraway Towns

I spent two days this week in London.

In my late teens, when it became apparent that I was going to be studying journalism at university, I always assumed that I'd end up working in London.

Life didn't play out that way, and I've been to London less than a dozen times since my first visit in 1999.

I always look forward to heading down to the big smoke - especially when my employer is paying, as was the case this week.

But it's a place that delights and infuriates in equal measure.

The sheer size of the city is something that a life spent mostly in Scotland can't prepare you for. London isn't a single entity, it's a whole series of towns linked by what, in my experience, is the world's greatest underground network.

But the tube, while generally working like clockwork, can be a source of great frustration. It seems that Londoners are adept at avoiding eye contact, instead stampeding impatiently from platform to platform, barrier to exit. One second's hesitance and you're immediately in someone's way, and they're not slow in telling you.

The sheer volume of people takes some getting used to as well, especially for those of us who split their time between Montrose and Aberdeen. But London seems overcrowded even when compared to New York and Shanghai, although perhaps memory serves me incorrectly.

Even with the overcrowding and the sullen faces surrounding me on every side, London is incredible. There are amazing buildings on almost every street. Huge ornate buildings that would be royal residences in any other country are train stations or offices in London.

But it's a tiring place, especially when you're at a conference for the entire time you're there, and even more so when your flight is delayed. I did at least get a meal at Gordon Ramsay's Plane Food restaurant, and it was one of the best meals I've ever had.

Berwick Raingers

Today, as is my usual practice every second Saturday, I set off around 2pm bound for Links Park.

The focus of today's attention was to be Montrose v Berwick, but when I arrived at the ground at 2.20pm it was apparent all was not well. Groups of people huddled in the shelter of the ground's front entrance, and the turnstiles weren't open.

Angus has been bombarded by torrential rain over the past few days, and I assumed that even Montrose's plastic pitch had proven too soggy for football today.

But the club employees inside the stadium informed us that one of the teams was stuck en route due to a road closure between Perth and Dundee.

Now, I would have assumed that the team unable to make it Links Park today would have been Berwick, seeing as how they were coming from England. But the Berwick team bus was parked in front of the ground, and small groups of their fans were wandering around nearby.

No, the team unable to make it to today's fixture was the home side.

It's a funny old game Saint....

The Pakistani and The Automatic Door

I'm not sure if the gentleman in the video below actually is Pakistani or not, my Arabic isn't quite up to scratch. If anyone wants to enlighten me, I'd be grateful.

Just As Well They Really Did

A few days ago I pointed you strange people in the direction of The Beatles Never Broke Up.

If you've not been yet, I wouldn't bother. I recommended the site on the basis of a couple of brief instrumental excerpts.

But having listened to the first two tracks (I couldn't bear any more) it's apparent that the "album" is just a poorly-executed mash-up of various post-Beatles solo works.

At least the story was vaguely entertaining.

Season 2009/2010: Match 4: Montrose v Stranraer

Today, despite hammering rain at the time I left the house, the fact that it was freezing cold and that Wales v Scotland was on the telly, I went to Links Park, handed over my hard-earned (OK, let's just pretend it's hard-earned) cash and watched Montrose come away with a point.

They deserved all three. Stranraer are dire, but Montrose have regressed so far over the past few months that even a home match against a team as shite as this can't be regarded as a shoo-in.

It was end-to-end stuff, but neither side created much in the way of genuine chances. Saying that, if Stranraer captain Danny Mitchell could hit the target with his shots, Stranraer could have had half a dozen goals.

The first goal came in the 54th minute, Sean Anderson flicking a Paul Watson free kick in off the far post. The lead only lasted ten minutes though, Michael Moore beating the offside trap (or Montrose's backline standing roughly in a straight line anyway), avoiding a late Tweed lunge and sending a low shot into the bottom corner.

But Montrose should have finished the match, Tweed somehow managing to volley OVER the crossbar from three yards and both Maitland and Nicol missing late chances from inside the box.

Montrose looked much better today than they have of late, with more width and drive in evidence. They need to cut out silly mistakes, with Fraser Milligan in particular guilty of carelessness on a number of occasions. The side is crying out for a goalscorer as well, but I've been saying that all season. I've seen Montrose play four times this season, but only seen them score twice.

Optimism says that the potential is there for the team to start winning - perhaps a first league win will lead to an avalanche. But pragmatism says that the season is going to be a long, long grind.

Today could have been worse though. I could have watched the Scotland match.

Of Its Time

I despair. Truly I do. Within the first sentence, which ever illiterate monkey from National Express East Coast wrote this has completely lost any hope of me partaking of their super-duper special offer.

The Beatles Never Broke Up

Barking mad, marketing his own band or genuinely in possession of an unreleased Beatles album?
Or just barking mad?

Anyway, it's a good story and the music is half decent - is this really unreleased Beatles music from an alternative dimension?

You decide....

Black and White and Read All Over

Thanks to my daily commute, I get through a fair few books over the course of a year. Here's the tomes that have been keeping me entertained over the past wee while - the list is somewhat shorter than I would have expected, but that's because The Great and Secret Show, The Creation Records Story and the Michael Jackson biography were all huge books.

 

Yes We Have No - Nik Cohn: Disappointing travelogue of a tour around "alternative" England, including travellers' camps, National Front members, witches and an Indian boxer. Promised much more than it delivered.

 

Trussed - Shiromi Pinto: Entertaining, fast-paced novel about three intertwined lives - Sri Lankan dominatrix Vinda; her cousin and Elvis impersonator Angel; and bail bondsman Regis. Read in a week and thoroughly entertaining from beginning to end.

 

The Final Whistle? - Harry Reid: Interesting, well-argued look at the problems facing Scottish football and the possible solutions to those problems. A few years old, so some things have changed - Gretna's demise being the most notable. A few strange idiosyncracies in Reid's style, surprising in a former editor of The Herald, were infuriating, but all in all, a worthwhile read for fans of Scottish football.

 

Gangster - Lorenzo Carcaterra: Fantastic novel about New York crime boss Angelo Vestieri's rise from sickly immigrant to the most powerful man in America. Written by the same author who wrote Sleepers, the book followed the standard Godfather/Goodfellas route, but was all the better for it.

 

The Great and Secret Show - Clive Barker: Sprawling fantasy novel recommended by a colleague, who said it's her favourite book. Strong start and finish, but a lull in the middle of a very lengthy novel meant it was a struggle at times. Worth a read, but never going to feature in my favourite books list.

 

Marley & Me - John Grogan - Surprisingly entertaining tale of One Man and His Dog. I read it after seeing the Owen Wilson/Jennifer Aniston movie, but the book was much better. A worthwhile read, although it's hardly War and Peace.

 

Michael Jackson: The Magic and The Madness - J Randy Taraborelli: The definitive Jackson biography from one of the few journalists ever taken into the King of Pop's confidence. I started reading this a month before I was due to go and see Jackson in concert; by the time I finished it, he was dead.

 

The Creation Records Story: My Magpie Eyes are Hungry For The Prize - David Cavanagh: Thorough history of the record label that dominated the Britpop years. A tale of junkies, geniuses, nutters, coke, lots of money, Primal Scream and Oasis. Noel Gallagher left Oasis while I was reading the book.

 

A Death In Tuscany - Michele Giuttari - Fast-paced novel following the exploits of Florence police chief Michele Ferrara. Complex plots involving paedophiles, drug dealers and mafia dons tie well together for an enjoyable read.

 

Bravo Two Zero - Andy McNab - Exciting tale of the SAS behind enemy lines. McNab's unadorned style was a bit grating to begin with, but once the story picked up speed, so too did the writing. Not as harrowing as I expected it might be, but a glimpse into a world I'm glad never to have been a part of.

 

The Resurrectionist - James Bradley - Rather odd tale of anatomists and grave robbers in Victorian London. Bradley's writing style captured the era well, but there was little to keep the reader desperately turning the pages.

Why Sub-Editors Are Important

 

What I Did At The Weekend

Season 2009/2010: Match 3: Montrose v Livingston

And still the search for that elusive first league win of the season goes on.

A comfortable win over Banks O' Dee in the monsoon a week earlier seemed to spark Montrose into life on Saturday, and they played their full time opponents off the park for long spells.

Livingston have few friends in Scottish football and Saturday's match did little to win new buddies in Montrose. Jonathan Brown was sent off for a high, late and dangerous tackle in the 22nd minute, and striker Andrew Halliday appeared to feign injury to get Montrose's Sean Anderson dismissed 13 minutes later.

Despite the hinderances, Montrose played as well as I've seen them this season (albeit that is only three games). Tomana, Nicol, Hegarty and even Tweed looked good, but Montrose still can't score goals. There's a desperate need for someone who can put the ball in the net by any means possible.

(As an aside, I'm reminded of the West Ham fan who sat behind the dugout in a pre-season friendly. He spent the whole first half lambasting whichever lump of meat Harry Redknapp was playing up front at the time. Eventually 'Arry turned round to the fan, told him to put on a Hammers shirt and get on the pitch. He did, he played up front and he scored. I might take my boots to Links Park for the Stranraer game on November 14 and see what happens.)

Did Livi deserve to win 3-0? Did they hell. They were lucky even to win, but the margin exaggerated the result. Sure enough, Halliday scored the second, which effectively decided the match, and was subbed off near the end to a chorus of boos from the home fans.

Sitting amongst said fans was Jamie Buchan, until recently one of the best players at the club. He's still unattached, and it would be a great piece of business if Mo could bring him back to add a bit of experience, cool passing and solid tackling either at the back or behind Tomana in midfield. Here's hoping....

Friday Ten - My Ten All-Time Favourite Computer/Console Games

1. Championship Manager/Football Manager (all incarnations since Championship Manager 2) - PC - Not so much a computer game as a way of life.

 

2. Magicland Dizzy - Spectrum 128k (+3 in our household)  - The fourth(?) instalment of the wonderful Dizzy series kept Baby Brother and I occupied for hours on end, working as a team to solve puzzles in a world populated by boxing glove-wearing anthropomorphic eggs. We didn't need drugs in the 1990s. We had Codemasters to create outlandish fantasies for us.

 

3. The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening - Gameboy - The First Legend of Zelda game on the Game Boy, the first I played and the one I've enjoyed the most.

 

4. Goldeneye - N64 - Quite possibly the world's best multiplayer game. Four players rampaging around hydro electric dam as Oddjob, Bond, Jaws and russian soldiers shooting each other has never yet been surpassed.

 

5. Mario Kart - N64 - The best driving game ever. Beaten only by Goldeneye in the multiplayer stakes. There has never, to my knowledge, been a bad version of Mario Kart.

 

6. Grand Theft Auto III - PlayStation 2 - Not the original, but definitely the best in my opinion. I never really enjoyed the first two games on the original PlayStation, but GTA3 was, and still is, awesome.

 

7. Pro Evolution Soccer - PlayStation 2 - As any fool knows, Pro Evolution Soccer kicks FIFA's ass every time.

 

8. Chucky Egg - Spectrum 48k - Falling into the "simple but effective" category, this Donkey Kong predecessor saw the player manipulate Henhouse Harry through level after level of platforms, collecting eggs and avoiding killer chickens. They don't make them like this any more.

 

9. Sim City 2000 - PC - My second favourite PC game after the untouchable CM/FM series. I've devoted countless hours to building a whole series of Jockvilles over the years.

 

10. Sensible Soccer - Gameboy - Only on the Playstation did Sensible Soccer suck, but on the original Gameboy it was the greatest football game by a considerable margin.

 

 

Square Root Of All Evil

As my office backs onto what, until recently was a massive Aberdeen building site, today myself and two colleagues ventured out at lunchtime for the opening of the city's new shopping/cinema/dining complex, Union Square.

And it was utter bedlam. I've just heard on the news that 10,000 people were through the doors in the first hour.

TEN THOUSAND people. 30,000 in the first three hours. To see shops and restaurants that largely already exist in the city.

The big draw though was the shiny new Apple store. They were giving away t-shirts to the first 1,000 people into the shop, and rumour has it that 100 of the boxes also had iPod Nanos in them. But we took one look at the queue and decided to leave instead.

But even that was hard work, fighting against the flow of 10,000 folk milling around, ramraiding others with buggies, stopping dead with no notice and generally infuriating those of us who are perfectly normal.

Everywhere You Go

The weather at the moment is rather strange. Last week, it rained non-stop for three days, causing flooding and landslides in and around Aberdeen.

 

But now the sun is shining and it is unseasonably warm. Which is causing me some problems.

 

It's too cold, and the risk of rain is too high, to go without a warm and waterproof jacket. But when walking around wearing said jacket, I quickly become too hot and end up sweating like Gary Glitter in a Phuket playgroup.

 

But if I then take my jacket off, I quickly become too cold, and it's really too big to be carrying round.

 

I have neither the funds nor the inclination to invest in a new winter jacket (even though the one I'm currently wearing has been around for a few years now and has the remains of a pen lodged in the lining, the pen having slipped through a hole in one of the myriad pockets).

 

I hate autumn. Cold without being properly cold, warm without being warm enough to stay out for too long. Far too wet. Dark mornings and darker evenings. It's at this time of year that a permanent return to Australia (or a transfer to my employer's Houston or Singapore office) seems ever more inviting.

21st Century Boy

I think the musical pool I've been dipping into over the past few years has shrunk somewhat.

 

Spurred on by a text from a friend, I attempted to draw up my list of my 10 favourite albums since 2000.

 

And off the top of my head, the list consisted of:

 

The Cooper Temple Clause - See This Through and Leave

The Cooper Temple Clause - Kick Up The Fire and Let The Flames Break Loose

The Cooper Temple Clause - Make This Your Own

Elbow - Asleep In The Back

Elbow - Leaders Of The Free World

Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid

The Coral - The Coral

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Fever To Tell

The Libertines - Up The Bracket

Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not

 

So, six albums contributed by two artists. No Oasis albums. No Doves. No Coldplay. No AC/DC, Queens of the Stone Age, Primal Scream, Manic Street Preachers, Verve, Bob Dylan or Ian Brown.

 

I'm wary of becoming one of those middle-aged guys who claims to have their finger on the pulse of modern music, but who can only tell you when the next Rush or David Bowie album is coming out.

 

I do think that most of the music covered by NME nowadays is pish - but I've probably thought that every year since 1998. They certainly lost me for a while around the turn of the century when they shamefully lauded The Strokes as some kind of defining band, when they were nothing of the kind.

 

But maybe I am in danger of losing my knowledge of what's new. Mrs Wife is the one who bought Florence and The Machine's debut album Lungs, while I've instead been spending my money on Beatles remasters and Ian Brown albums. While she can identify the new singles by The Enemy or The Big Pink from their exposure on Radio 1, I spend my morning commute listening to Miles Davis or Abbey Road.

 

I'll be 30 next year - is it time to give up the NME subscription and devote my time and money to Classic Rock instead?

Separated At Birth

Shamelessly stolen from another blog, which I would link to if it wasn't open to invited readers only.

Hey Jude

This reminds me of Baby Brother's A Capella renditions of Bohemian Rhapsody when he was around the same age.

Hidden Gems

The last time I looked, my Magic Tune Box had just under 21,000 songs on it. Most of these tracks are those I've ripped from my CDs, but some are from CDs borrowed from friends and family or from downloads both legal and illicit.

This much music means that to listen to it all would take solid weeks. And it also means that there are lots of tracks on the Magic Tune Box that I've never heard. Not even once.

So, a while back I decided that one way to remedy this would be to listen to all the albums on the Magic Tune Box in alphabetical order. As well as allowing me to hear some of the music for the first time, this also enabled me to keep my borderline OCD in check.

At the moment, I've gotten as far as "E". And today, I heard the Rory Gallagher compilation Etched In Blue for the first time.

I was blown away.

Thanks to my odd desire to listen to everything in some pre-defined order, and to the alphabet, I've discovered some new (30-year-old) tunes.

Take your happiness where you can find it folks....

Season 2009/2010: Match 2: Montrose v Queen's Park

It's now official - I support the worst "professional" football team in Scotland.

A measly two points from the first quarter of the season tells as much of the story as should be necessary - no wins from the opening nine matches.

As is the case with fans of most shite teams, I'm adamant that Montrose are better than this.

Except they're not.

The defence is largely anonymous. Paul Quinn could have stopped and made a cup of tea before scoring Queen's Park's first last night, with the centre backs - Sean Crighton and player/manager/captain/obergrupenfuhrer/king of the world Steven Tweed - nowhere to be seen.

Andrew McNeil was an erratic keeper when he was at Hibs, and presumably that's why he now finds himself slumming it at the foot of Division Three.

And Montrose have no-one who can score goals. All of their attacks were based around long shots from outside or near the edge of the box, or aimlessly lumping the ball into the box and hoping that Tweed or Crighton could connect with their noggins.

It seems a long time since the heady days of Jim Weir, when promotion looked a serious possibility - but it's only been a season and half. Montrose's slide to below mediocrity has been rapid, thanks in no small part to a whole host of managers and a club-wide budget cut.

It's going to be a grim winter.

Rare Photograph From The 1940 Tour de France

 

Gone But Not Forgotten

My granny died early this morning after a long series of illnesses.

If I'm honest, it's a blessing of sorts, as age and illness had slowly and cumulatively stripped her of everything that made her my granny - her memories, her personality, her mobility and, in the end, everything bar her body's refusal to finally surrender.

At the moment, it's hard to put those memories to the side, but I'd much rather remember her for the wonderful woman she was.

She was a woman who loved unconditionally, who was singularly devoted to her husband, children and grandchildren and a woman to whom there was no greater pleasure than spending time surrounded by her loved ones.

I may be biased, but I have never met a better cook, and I would give almost anything to taste her steak pie and roast tatties again.

My memories are all over the place at the moment, but all of them are happy. Images of the whole family clustered around the kitchen table playing Monopoly, my granny always insisting on being the iron; her singing along to Radio 2, always out of tune and always a bar behind the recorded version; roaring with laughter at Some Like It Hot despite having seen it hundreds of times.

I could go on like this forever, but I won't. I'll just sit here with my memories of a wonderful woman.