Got the 510am bus into Edinburgh and managed to be in Burr on George Street at 715. Of course this is an insane time to travel. Most respectable people are still in their beds and quite right too.
I bumped into my old mate John Donnelly who heads up Edinburgh Marketing. He said he was just on his way to meet the Lord Provost for breakfast. I could only return by saying I was off to Greggs for their two pound special deal and maybe going for an extra rasher of bacon. Yes, John has done rather well for himself but he has the most electric personality and is seriously good fun, albeit he supports Celtic.
I don’t really go in for football that much although I am kind of a default Hearts man, as my lawyer Leslie Deans is a director and a very good and decent bloke. I have only been to one football match and that was Hibs against Rangers. My only memory is being spat at by Alex Cropley as he took a corner. It was a rather good shot, but did he know I was the only non-partisan bloke in the stadium that night? Or perhaps gleaned that I was to be the future florist of choice at Tynecastle?
I did turn down a chance to watch Newcastle when I was friendly with my old pal Kate McKeag. We were down in Bamburgh for the weekend and she said that her Dad had asked if I wanted to go to the match. I declined and it only transpired later that her Dad was the Chairman and it was going to be a bit of a knees up in the Directors box.
It’s been a quiet week at the races and the political scene rather dull. I don’t rate Trump’s chances of coming out the Mueller investigation unscathed and am not won over by his rhetoric that ‘all children at school should be safe’ and his desire to only look at the mental health issues here. That’s about as out of touch with the situation as recognising Jerusalem as Israel’s capital.
I hear that men can no longer be made associate members of the Ladies Putting Club in St Andrews. This is ironically a direct result of the Equalities Act of 2010 and goes to show what an awful state we have got ourselves into. Likewise, ladies can no longer go and enjoy the fine trappings of R&A hospitality at the tables of Forgan House.
Well, unless you’re a lady member that is? I suppose they could nip next door to St Rule’s though and meet the gents at timeous intervals for fag breaks outside?
Tit for tat I suppose?
I heard an amusing Dunhill anecdote from my new friend Commodore Sandford this morning. He was in the inn at Kingsbarns having a quiet pint and there sat Alistair Forsyth, Steven O’Hara and Steven Gallagher. They had ordered a bottle of red from the waitress who presented it and asked if the gents would like it decanted, to which Steven O’Hara, as quick as lightning asked, ‘is there anything wrang with it?’
I take it they don’t decant wine in Bellshill?