The Herald Diary Read online

  First published 2018

  by Black & White Publishing Ltd

  Nautical House, 104 Commercial Street

  Edinburgh EH6 6NF

  www.blackandwhitepublishing.com

  This electronic edition published in 2017

  ISBN: 978 1 78530 233 6 in EPub format

  ISBN: 978 1 78530 179 7 in paperback format

  Copyright © Ken Smith & Newsquest (Herald & Times) Ltd 2018

  The right of Ken Smith & Newsquest (Herald & Times) Ltd to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Ebook compilation by Iolaire Typesetting, Newtonmore

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. Let’s Hear Your Banter

  2. Glasgow

  3. Loving It

  4. A Class Apart

  5. Student Days

  6. No Business like Show Business

  7. Will Do for Your Work

  8. Cheers

  9. I’ll Vote for That

  10. Head for the Sunshine

  11. Travel Broadens the Mind

  12. The Funny Side of the Law

  13. Retail Therapy

  14. Keeping It in the Family

  15. Keeping Fit

  16. Ageing Beautifully

  17. No Longer with Us

  18. A Sporting Chance

  Introduction

  Despite the best efforts of some of those in power at home and abroad, it seems that every day something funny happens on the streets and in the homes of Scotland. And, fortunately for us, readers of The Herald – Glasgow’s favourite newspaper – are famous for taking the time to jot down these tales and send them into the paper’s daily Diary column.

  They might be stories about the gems that the younger generation are forever coming out with, the gaffes of poli-ticians, the shenanigans of Scottish football, the tribulations of trying to grow old gracefully or the wise-cracking ripostes of rocky relationships. One thing is for sure, whatever the topic, if something makes you smile then it will end up in The Diary.

  And here we have gathered together the best of readers’ stories from 2018 so that – hopefully! – we can help the smiles continue.

  1

  Let’s Hear Your Banter

  Ah the banter!

  Some of the more memorable lines heard are not skilfully crafted jokes but simply remarks made in the spur of the moment which our readers are happy to pass on, as they are worth preserving.

  STRESSFUL time, funerals. A reader tells us of a recent Glasgow funeral where a young relative of the deceased stopped the priest before the coffin was being taken into the chapel and said he wanted to place a picture of his late aunty’s pet dog on the casket. The priest gently squeezed the chap’s arm and told him: “It’s a coffin, son – no’ a sideboard.”

  A PARTICK reader swears to us he saw a young lad running along Dumbarton Road wearing a cape, so he jocularly shouted after him: “Are you a superhero?” and the chap shouted back: “Naw, I’ve no’ paid fur ma haircut.”

  OLD insults that should be preserved. Now you don’t hear the word dookin’ much these days – getting kids to immerse their heads in a basin of water to capture an apple before they drown seems to be waning. But as Ed Hunter reminds us: “With regards to a chap with a florid complexion – ‘Ah think he’s been dookin’ fur chips.’ ”

  INSULTS that should be saved, continued. Now you hardly ever see anyone playing billiards these days as it is all pool or snooker. So it has probably been a while since anyone said to a loudmouth, as reader John Leonard recalled: “You could put three billiard balls in that mooth o’ yours and still not get a cannon.”

  THE firm that ran the Christmas market in Glasgow’s George Square has lost the contract, The Herald reported. Some folk thought it was a bit brash, it has to be said. As an old colleague memorably described it last Christmas: “The beer bar looked as enticing as the waiting lounge at Glasgow Airport on Fair Friday just before the last flight to Magaluf.”

  ARCHIE Knox, who was assistant manager with Alex Ferguson at Manchester United and Walter Smith at Rangers, told the audience at a Waterstones author event at The Avenue in Newton Mearns that the first game after his arrival at Ibrox was Rangers losing to Motherwell.

  Recalled Archie: “They were rebuilding the main stand at Ibrox at the time and when I walked in on the Monday morning one of the workmen on the stand shouted down, ‘Hey Knox! You’ve made a big difference, haven’t you?’”

  HOW’S this for an argument? Deril Wyles in Stirling revealed: “Guy from the TV licence chapped my uncle’s pal’s door who told him he didnae have a telly, and the guy was like, ‘You’ve got an aerial on your roof.’

  “He replied: ‘I’ve got a pint of milk in the fridge – disnae mean I’ve got a coo oot the back,’ and shut the door.”

  AND so the hot weather continues, although some folk find it uncomfortable. Still Game actor Gavin Mitchell passed on the following conversation he had the other day: “Taxi driver: ‘How was yer night?’ Me: ‘Awright. Yersel?’ Taxi driver: ‘Aye awright, just sittin’ sweatin’ ma a*** aff oan this PVC seat wi’ this windae open thinking, Whit am a dain’ wi’ ma life? Why did a no’ try harder?’”

  OUR sister paper the Evening Times ran a story about a prisoner who absconded from jail being found in Cumbernauld. Steven McAvoy muses: “What’s the point in escaping the jail if yir just going to go to Cumbernauld?”

  GREAT weather at the weekend, with Glasgow’s parks mobbed. A reader lounging in Kelvingrove Park heard a mother call her daughter over and firmly tell her to put on sunscreen. The daughter dubiously picked up the tube, read the label and asked: “Factor 50? What’s in it when you squeeze it out? A blanket?” And for sheer daftness, Geraint Griffith says: “I hope my neighbours have a barbecue soon or I’m going to look rather stupid with all this salmon on my washing line.”

  A READER swears to us he heard a wee lad in a park ask his dad: “Can I get an ice cream?”

  “If you’re good,” said the dad.

  “Good at what?” asked the boy.

  “Buying your own ice cream,” he was told.

  A READER hears a woman in a Glasgow coffee shop explain to her pals: “The young girl in the hairdresser’s was talking about her wedding and saying rather rudely that she didn’t want any fat bridesmaids. It took all my effort not to lean over and say, ‘Why? Do you not want any competition?’”

  MODERN life explained by Liz Hackett, who says: “Life is a constant balancing act between wondering why you weren’t invited to something and wondering how to get out of it.”

  TODAY’S daftness comes from Pete Firman, who says: “I spent the last three days alone trying to learn escapology. I need to get out more.”

  HONESTLY, it’s just a joke, and we have nothing against such a fine place, but Martin Morrison gets in touch to muse: “There are only a handful of words in the English language that contain the letter sequence ‘rrh’.

  “I’ve listed a few. Gonorrhoea, diarrhoea, pyorrhoea and haemorrhoid. Oh, and Barrhead.”

  A GLASGOW reader heard a philosopher in his local pub declare: “Nothing ruins your Friday like suddenly realising it’s Thursday.”

  DAFT gag of the day comes from a Lenzie reader who says: “My girlfriend says that sex is better when you are on your holidays.

  “Well, t
hat’s a postcard I wasn’t expecting.”

  WE don’t often make political points in The Diary but we pass on the observation by Karl Sharro, who says: “Under communism, you buy everything from a single state outlet, whereas under fully mature capitalism you buy everything from Amazon.”

  DAFT gag of the day comes from a Milngavie reader who emails: “Went into a shop and said I wanted to buy stockings for the wife. ‘Sheer?’ the assistant asked. ‘No, she’s at home,’ I replied. ‘Does it matter?’”

  TODAY’S piece of daftness comes from a Baillieston reader, who emails: “Our local Co-op was broken into last night and two dozen cases of Red Bull were stolen. I don’t know how these people sleep at night.”

  GOOD to see the introduction of minimum alcohol pricing in Scotland this week, despite daft claims it will lead to booze trips across to England to stock up on gut-rot cider.

  A reader in Glasgow’s city centre yesterday heard a young woman coming out of a newsagent’s shop and asking her pal: “Has minimum pricing also kicked in on chocolate? I mean, 75p for a Wispa!”

  2

  Glasgow

  We cover the whole of Scotland in The Diary, but some stories are just pure Glasgow.

  AMUSED to read in a TravelSupermarket survey that Glasgow’s robust Partick area is rated as one of Britain’s hip places to hang out – overtaking nearby Finnieston. Bumped into actor Jimmy Martin recently who was recalling the barber’s shop at Partick Cross decades ago. The owner once told him about a customer coming in with his young son, who waited while “dad” got a haircut. Said Jimmy: “When he was finished he said to the barber, ‘Would you cut the boy’s hair while I nip into the bookies?’ The barber cut away, but there was no sign of the father coming back and the barber said to the boy, ‘He’s taking his time.’ The young lad replied he didn’t know who he was and he had just asked him outside if he fancied a haircut.”

  A YOUNG woman revealed on a Facebook page for citizens of Glasgow’s Dennistoun that: “This morning I went to fetch my washing off the line and all my underwear was gone. Feeling a little creeped out.” Fellow Dennistonians expressed their disgust at such a theft, although one chap did reply: “My neighbour once came to my door asking if I’d stolen her underwear from the washing line. I nearly wet her pants!”

  STILL great weather, although folk are saying they are losing their appetite in the heat. Tom Rafferty passes on the dilemma of the chap on a sweltering 38 bus in Glasgow the other day who answered his phone and declared: “Sweat’s runnin’ aff me . . . Naw, no’ really hungry . . . Too hot . . . Where you goin’? . . . Get us a pie supper, hen . . . Ten minutes, doll.”

  OUR introspective taxi-driver story reminded Derek Miller in Torrance: “Years ago, having attended a black-tie dinner at Glasgow’s Crowne Plaza, I emerged, fully refreshed, and into the waiting cab. The driver was a jovial big fellow and we started chatting about football. ‘Whut team dae ye support, big man?’ he asked, and on noticing the bloke’s ‘Aye Ready’ tattoo, I replied truthfully, ‘Rangers, mate.’

  “‘Dae ye like the tunes, big man?’ he asked. As soon as I nodded in the affirmative, he reached down the side of his seat, produced a flute, and belted out ‘The Sash My Father Wore’ with one hand, whilst driving with the other.”

  THE fire at the School of Art is incredibly sad, but thank you to Glasgow crime novelist Denise Mina for cheering us up with a story about the nearby ABC venue on Sauchiehall Street which was also engulfed that night. Denise said: “My pal fell down the ABC stairs when she wasn’t wearing knickers. Her skirt rode up and she was so embarrassed that she pretended to be unconscious. A crowd gathered. Someone called 999. The ambulance crew must have been very angry. Where will chaotic, knickerless drunks go now?”

  IT is Blood Donor Week, as donation centres remind folk they still need donations even though a lot of regular donors are away on holiday. It reminds us of a worker at the Glasgow donation centre who told us of a donor who concluded his session by saying: “Well, that’s me, I’ll not be back here again.” Concerned staff asked if they had done something to offend but he replied: “No – it’s just that when I had an operation, I was given nine pints of blood and now I’ve given you the nine pints back.”

  AVRIL Paton, painter of those great Glasgow tenement paintings, has her latest work, a cracking picture of Kelvingrove Art Gallery, put on display in the gallery. One of Avril’s lesser known works is Rita’s Find, which is of Glasgow’s Paddy’s Market. She once told us that when she was down there making her initial sketches, angry stallholders came up and demanded to know if she was spying on them “frae the social”.

  Quite why they thought government officials would use a sketch artist rather that someone with a camera for spotting benefit fraud was never explained.

  WHERE did the time go? It’s the 30th anniversary of the opening of the Glasgow Garden Festival, and we recall a reader who told us that a pal who busked with a violin outside bingo halls was called in to the dole office in those Thatcherite days and quizzed about his job-seeking. He had put himself down on the books as a violinist, believing no job would be found for him and he could carry on his indolent days on the broo. Said our reader: “I didn’t see him for some months before visiting the Garden Festival. On entering the catering hall, I was amazed to see our man for the first time ever in a suit and black tie, sitting in the front row of the band and sawing his fiddle in a completely scunnered manner, having to cope with six months of gainful employment.”

  MAIRI Clark passes an office in Maryhill which has a sign outside stating that studio workshops are available to let. The sign states there is “24-hour axes”. She assumes it is a misspelling of “access”, but being Maryhill . . .

  A GLASGOW reader was in his local when a chap told his pals: “What you read about me in the Evening Times today is true.” After a shocked silence, he said: “I’m selling my couch.”

  COMEDIAN and broadcaster Hardeep Singh Kohli is of course the brother of Sanjeev Kohli, Still Game’s shopkeeper Navid. Hardeep was in Glasgow appearing at St Luke’s in the Glasgow Comedy Festival, and he tells us: “Coming back to Glasgow, you realise how much you’ve missed the chat. As I’m cycling doon the road a young ne’er-do-well shouts out at me, ‘Awright, Navid!’

  “Not one to take my brother’s credit, I huff ‘I’m not Navid’ between puffs, as I try to defy gravity up Great George Street. Quick as a flash he has a comeback: ‘Aye, I know yer no’ Navid, but it disnae half p*ss you off.’ ”

  A GLASGOW reader heard some young chaps in his local pub discussing the pros and cons of vegetarianism, when one of them declared: “Imagine being a vegan, stumbling home after a night out, and saying to yourself, ‘I could fair go a cabbage supper.’”

  PLANS have been announced to have a statue to South African leader Nelson Mandela erected in Glasgow, the first place in Britain to give him the Freedom of the City. We still recall when Nelson arrived in Glasgow for the ceremony – the late lamented Crocket’s Ironmongers in West Nile Street had a sign in its window stating: “Mr Mandela – get your spare keys to the city cut here.”

  IT was Royal Ascot over the last few days – yes, didn’t the Queen look lovely – and Scott McCarthy tells us: “I’m sorry that the fine chestnut colt Yabass faded at the finish of the Queen’s Vase at Royal Ascot. I’d love to imagine punters in bookies’ shops all over Glasgow shouting at the screens, ‘Come on, Yabass!’ Congratulations to the owners, though, for sneaking the name under the British Horseracing Authority’s radar.”

  AH, we’ve all been there. Ian Craig in Strathaven gives us his view on Ryanair slashing its flights from Glasgow Airport: “Just wondered if I’m the only person in the west of Scotland delighted with the news.

  “This will save my wife trawling through their website and trying to get me to fly to Timbuktu or some other equally obscure place that I don’t really want to go to. Then having to join a queue well before departure at some God-awful hour before being dazzled by the ga
rish yellow interior of the plane. Just hope that Edinburgh is next.”

  GOING to the cinema has taken a new turn, with Odeon refurbishing its cinemas at the Quay and East Kilbride to give film fans fully reclinable leather seats – you can easily have forty winks if the film doesn’t hold your attention. Anyway, it allows Diary chum John Sword to reminisce: “My dad years ago told me about a friend who married an usherette from the Rio at Bearsden. At the church she walked down the aisle backwards.

  “Younger readers won't get it.”

  3

  Loving It

  There are many twists and turns in the course of true love. Our readers share a few of these precious moments.

  A READER heard some young lads in the pub at the weekend discussing how suspicious their girlfriends were. One lad topped the stories by declaring: “I took the girlfriend for a romantic weekend in Paris and when we got there I pointed over and said, ‘There’s the Eiffel Tower.’ She just threw me a dirty look and snapped, ‘I thought you said you’d never been to Paris before?’”

  EVER taken revenge on a former boyfriend or girlfriend? A reader in Dublin says a girl on a bus was telling her friend that every week she still plays the same Lotto numbers as her ex. She explained that if he ever won he would have to cope with the news that the millions were divided in half and he had to share it with his former girlfriend.