Creative Writing Archives - Page 17 of 39

Publication Of Long Lost Literary Gems

Jul 122012

Gubby Plenderleith, our Literary Editor, reports on a find which has rocked Scotland’s literary world.

The Scottish literary establishment is charged with anticipation over the announcement this week that a number of previously unknown poems by Scobie McSporran, ‘The Bard of Balmaha’ are to be published next month.
I spoke with Torquil Abercromby, a senior researcher at Freuchie University, who was approached last year by a woman claiming to be McSporran’s great-granddaughter.

He told me:

“She telephoned me completely out of the blue and said that she had a number of the poet’s unpublished works which the family had kept in storage since his death. She wondered whether the University would be interested in reading them.

“To be honest I was a bit sceptical at first. Here was someone saying they had unpublished works by one of my favourite Scottish poets and asking me whether I’d like to read them. It was all pretty unreal at the time and I wondered if it was one of my students playing some kind of practical joke.”

Happily, Abercromby put aside his initial dubiety and met with the woman who had contacted him. She wishes to remain anonymous. He was, he told me, bowled over by what she showed him. He was also fearful that unless he acted quickly, she might take these literary jewels elsewhere, and so he lost no time in contacting the University authorities who fortunately were able to make sufficient funding available for the publication of a slim volume.

The resultant book, although limited in size, also contains some notes on McSporran the man, tracing his journey from apprentice shoemaker to running the family business himself, before handing it on to his two sons in order that he could become a full time writer.

This new publication also details some of McSporran’s travels round Scotland, and documents the way in which he summoned up the spirit of the simple man, choosing to write about everyday subjects rather than the more grandiose themes chosen by some of his contemporaries. His method of achieving this was to take to the road, living the life of a vagabond – a period of his life which, in his later years, McSporran looked back on with great fondness.

Speaking in 1928, a few months before his death, he told the writer Rudyard McGillicuddy that the day he gave up control of the family business for life as a vagrant was the happiest of his life.

As McGillicuddy recorded:

“Scobie was a free spirit who wished to be bound by no man, creed, or obligation. As for the family business, he told me that his father, grandfather and great-grandfather had all been shoemakers before him and as he himself remarked,’yon’s a lot o’ cobblers.’”

Abercromby is keenly protective of the publication of these works, which he sees as a landmark in the country’s literary landscape. He is extremely reticent to give away too many details of its contents. Aberdeen Voice is, therefore, exceptionally privileged to have exclusive permission to print two poems which elegantly demonstrate McSporran’s fascination with the everyday topics of the weather, and unrequited love.

IT’S DINGIN’ DOON IN DINGWALL

It’s dingin’ doon in Dingwall
An’ it’s snawin’ up in Skye,
There’s hailstones o’er in Helensbru’
An’ a snell north wind forbye,

But we’re snuggled warm an’ toastie
In oor wee bit heilan’ hame,
So the warld can pass ootside oor door
An’ lea’ us a’ alane!

TO JEAN

Oh dearest Jean, my cushie-doo,
I crave your tender bosy
An’ a kiss frae aff your tender lips,
So warm an’ saft an’ rosy.

I saw you first in Januar,
When the snaw wis oan the dyke –
You were lying at the roadside,
Havin’ fa’en aff yer bike.

But I stopped and helped you oan again
An’ waved a fond goodbye,
As you pedalled aff tae Cowdenbeath,
Your messages to buy.

But that was ower a year ago
An’ I’ve no’ seen you syne,
So maybe it’s a portent,
That you never will be mine.

‘The Sabbath, Sin and Stovies’, a collection of poems by Scobie McSporran, is published by Wanchancy Press on 20th August.

Is Yer Gless Haaf Teem?

Creative Writing, Satire and Humour No Responses »

Jul 122012

By Bob Smith.

Are ye an optimist or pessimist?
Foo dis yer brain aye think?
Hiv ye a maist positive naitur?
Or is negativity yer faavrit drink?

Is yer warld noo a waefu place?
Is Armageddon jist ower the hill?
Or is there sunshine in yer life?
An iverry day it fits the bill?

Div ye worry aboot the future?
Or tak ilka day as it cums?
Are dark cloods aye githerin?
His yer face a dose o “the glums”?

Is yer gless aye haaf teem?
Or is yer gless haaf fu?
Hiv ye a happy ootlook?
Or are ye doon in the moo?

Tak a wee bittie time fowks
Jist ti see fit wye ye lean
Is laachter aye yer brither?
Or is gloomy foo yer seen?

Turn yer face ti the sun
An shadows ahint ye faa
So says a Maori proverb
A thocht maist affa braw

So brichten up yer daily life
Think naething is a chore
Pit pessimism in the bin
Lit positivity oot ye roar

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Image Credit: © Steve Alvarez | Dreamstime.com

Old Susannah No 85: Brigadoon, Braveheart, Brave & Balmedie

Creative Writing, Satire and Humour 1 Response »

Jul 122012

Voice’s Old Susannah comments on current events and enlightens us with definitions of some tricky terms with a locally topical taste. By Suzanne Kelly.

Tally Ho! I will start by apologising for a recent column; I clearly misread the signs and got carried away. Specifically, you don’t need to worry quite so much about wearing sunscreen as I’d suggested. I also advised to make sure your pets had enough water – well, I think we’ve all had enough water by now.

Moving swiftly along, two art exhibitions are worthy of mention this week. The House of Annie Lennox exhibition at the Aberdeen Art Gallery opened with a bang. Ms Lennox was in town and a party and a press launch for the show were held.

Alas I did not get to the party, but it was a treat to have early access to the exhibition. The show is considerably expanded, and the early mementos and images from her childhood in Aberdeen show the roots of her talents and personality.

More homegrown talent is on display (albeit in Forfar) with artist Anna Geerdes’ exhibition ‘No Place’. Anna is from the Netherlands, lives in Torry, and studied at Grays School of Art. Her work explores questions of boundaries and landscapes; she’s had paintings in the Royal Academy of Art in Edinburgh, and I wish her all the best with this exceptional show on until 28 July.
http://www.angus.gov.uk/history/museums/meffan/exhibitions-2012-NoPlace.htm )

Looking out over foggy Aberdeen over the last few weeks (well, some days you couldn’t look very far for the haar) I peer through the mists and am reminded of the old film Brigadoon. This fantasy version of Scotland was so old fashioned! A bunch of tartan-clad, happy villagers in a town hidden by mist – really!

Thankfully, Hollywood has ceased any stereotyping. That’s why Pixar’s Brave’ is so much a hit, that we are helping to promote it and its vision of Scotland. Its far more realistic version of Scotland features tartan-clad, happy villagers dealing with witches and banshees. Result!

Rather than definitions from our government and its great initiatives, here is a look at some Hollywood films set amid the heather of Scotland.

Brigadoon: (proper noun; English) Movie/musical love story set in Scottish Highlands.

The tale of Brigadoon centres on a mythical Scottish town, Brigadoon. The story opens with American tourists getting lost in the foggy weather – kind of like this past fortnight. They had been in the countryside to engage in the perfectly legitimate, lucrative tourist occupation of culling invasive species, (ie, hunting).

In times past, Brigadoon was beset by evil forces.

The pair sing the memorable songs ‘no heather on the hill’ and ‘ A forestry-managing we will go’ as they look for deer to cull, carefully hanging warning signs all around them according to their risk assessment document.

The hunters discover the beautiful town of Brigadoon, with its rolling fields, sparkling granite and beautiful development opportunities. Brigadoon only appears out of the mists once every hundred years. In times past, Brigadoon was beset by evil forces.

Developers threatened to turn the fields to cheap houses and transform the market square into an iconic TIF project, and put wind turbines o’er land and sea. So the local minister prayed, and magically Brigadoon was saved from over-development, urban sprawl and unwanted forestry schemes by being hidden in time, only to appear once every 100 years (about as often as the No. 23 bus).

The villagers prepare for an upcoming wedding; the bridegroom sings ‘Go Home With Bonnie Jeannie’ , and the villagers all reply with a chorus of ‘Go Home, Ho Malone’. One of the Americans falls in love with the range of development opportunities on offer, and the locals sing a chorus of ‘Scotland’s open for Business,’ and ‘Smart, Successful Scotland.’ He returns to the land of his granny (near enough) and opens a golf course. Brigadoon is never seen again.

Braveheart: (proper noun; English) A documentary film made by Mel Gibson on the life of William Wallace.

This popular historic recreation has proven to the world that Scotland must be independent from England; it’s what Wallace would have wanted if he were here today.

These days some segments of the press are comparing Alex Salmond to Wallace for his unswerving moral code, his desire to uphold the rights of the common man against the wealthy and powerful, for painting his face with woad and going to battle for Scottish independence.

Apparently the referendum will be scheduled near the anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn , where Wallace saw the English off. Salmond bravely rode into battle against Donald of Trump; he and his two merry administration men sailed to far, far New York. Armed only with taxpayer money (about £6,300), Salmond and Trump engaged in combat at the Battle of Le Perigord (one of Manhattan’s most expensive restaurants).

I guess Salmond didn’t want to see anything that would discredit the great windfarm expert Trump

Both sides claim victory. Salmond said windfarms were never discussed; Trump says Salmond promised no windfarms near the new Trump resort. Trump won a great victory over the moving sand dunes to tame this corner of Scotland, creating the world’s greatest golf course.

Alex Salmond is, however, not quite brave-hearted enough to watch the film ‘You’ve been trumped!’ . He has declined several invitations to view it now, including its showing at Holyrood.

I guess Salmond didn’t want to see anything that would discredit the great windfarm expert Trump, whose address at Holyrood will go down in history for its grasp of science, economics and environmental concerns. Or something. This film has disturbing scenes of people being critical of The Donald and his flunkies, which some viewers might find upsetting. The two documentary makers show Trump’s effects on the Scottish landscape and residents, as he changes nature to his own designs.

Some of these unappreciative locals selfishly refused to sell their homes to Trump and even complained when Trump’s minions accidentally cut their water off and damaged their property. The filmmakers were quite rightly arrested, and should have been hung, drawn and quartered for embarrassing Trump and Salmond with this film.

It is understood that any day now The Donald will create millions of jobs – cleaners, porters, dishwashers and maids wanted.

Alex Salmond, like Wallace, understands the importance of seeing what assistance foreign powers can bring to the struggle for Scotland’s independence. This is why Salmond allied himself with the great Rupert of Murdoch. Alex pledged his allegiance to Murdoch and apparently did all he could to help with the BskyB merger, and exchanged several messages with (soon to be former) culture secretary of the hated English, Jeremy Hunt.

This was apparently done to get the Murdoch empire to support the SNP. Like Wallace, Salmond has been summoned to England to face his enemies at the Leveson enquiry, where he was asked to explain a few things. For some reason Mr Murdoch said he could not remember anything about this matter. Let’s hope Rupert’s memory improves sometime soon.

Freedom!

Brave: (proper noun; English) Animated tale of the real Scotland of ages past, complete with happy tartan-clad villagers, a princess and a witch or two. Apparently soon to be part of the SQA curriculum for Scottish History.

Some years back, the Government and Scottish Enterprise were keen to tell the world that it was wrong to stereotype Scotland as the land of tartan, whisky, castles and sheep. Times have changed.

According to News Net Scotland, here’s what they’re saying about ‘Brave’:-

“First Minister Alex Salmond said the movie presented a huge opportunity to promote Scotland and said: “This will present us with an immense opportunity when Scotland will be centre stage in the film with all the tourism and business opportunities this will bring. I fully expect that as the film launches across the world, so will awareness of Scotland increase. Brave will be the most high-profile film ever set in, and themed around, Scotland, featuring Scottish stars.”

VisitScotland chairman Mike Cantlay said:

“When better than in the Year of Creative Scotland, and where better than right here on Scottish soil, to launch Brave for the first time in Europe?

“The film will showcase the scenery, humour and culture of Scotland, and we are looking forward to converting cinema-goers into visitors.”

Why go and see this film, when for a mere £150 or so you can have a round of golf at Trump’s newest venture?

So there you have it – the first minister says that the most high-profile film ever set in Scotland is a cartoon with witches, banshees (no offence Aileen, Kate and Jennifer) and castles. Visit Scotland (which is now working with Disney to promote the film) says the film showcases the ‘scenery’ and ‘culture’ of Scotland. We can at least look back on this film when Aberdeen is choked by housing developments to the loss of any green fields.

So bring on the new independent Scotland, battles in kilts and some witchcraft – that will put any old stereotypes to rest.

Local Hero: (proper noun) Award-winning cult film in which environmental concerns take precedence over greed.

This fantasy film depicts a Scotland which is ‘closed for business’ and as such should not be screened. Worse still, it foreshadows a very dubious film indeed…

you’ve been trumped: (proper noun) Multi-award-winning documentary depicting Donald Trump’s quest for the world’s greatest golfcourse – whatever the cost.

Result! The galaxy’s greatest golfcourse opened this week! Why go and see this film, when for a mere £150 or so you can have a round of golf at Trump’s newest venture?

Old Susannah suggests that you might want to see this film yourself when it returns (in a newly edited version with extra footage) to the Belmont Cinema this week. Saturday will see Baxter and many Menie residents come along (1:15 and 6:00 showings as well as 11:00 am). Details at http://www.picturehouses.co.uk/cinema/Belmont_Picturehouse/film/Youve_Been_Trumped/

Hope to see you there, so you can judge for yourself who is in the right: an honest American tycoon trying to make an honest pound, or the area residents, mainstream Scottish media, and little-known documentary maker, Michael Moore.

Quotes:

“I heard it was boring. I heard it wasn’t good.”
— Donald J. Trump (Property Developer)

“Factually challenged”
— George Sorial (Trump spokesperson)

“I didn’t think I could be shocked by the abuses money and power can inflict on ordinary people, but Anthony Baxter, with a calm but steely determination, exposes the way a ruthless, greedy thug can corrupt the state, the police, the media and academia. …When a handful of decent Scottish people try to defend their homes and their environment from destruction, the angry billionaire seeks to crush them. For showing us the reality of this “development”, Baxter is intimidated, harassed and bullied. But he succeeds in giving us a film as magnificent as the landscape he tries to save, and as warm and principled as the people who live in it.”
— Jeremy Hardy, BBC

“An amazing film….Director Anthony Baxter throws a spotlight on the contemptuous way in which Trump deals with the residents. But most controversial of all is the way in which the potential environmental damage caused by the development has been disregarded because of the perceived benefits to the local economy.”
— Bob Ward, The Guardian

“This is a real eye opener of a film, and a cracking piece of filmmaking from Baxter, who uses his own nous, nerve and a few judicious clips from Local Hero besides, to make a compelling case. See it and decide for yourself who are the real Brave Hearts in this tale.”
— Glasgow Herald

“A quietly angry and important film that will inspire plenty of ire in anyone frustrated by the way money and power frequently crushes anything in its path.”
— The Scotsman

“Rogue filmmaker Anthony Baxter entered the front lines of the fight against the developers to capture the outrage of the locals, who stood tall against bulldozers even as their own police force aided Trump’s henchmen in protecting his project. This shocking investigative film aims to hold Trump—and anyone else who puts personal gain ahead of the environment—accountable for their actions as it documents a protest that still wages on.”
— Michael Moore’s Traverse City Film Festival (Winner, Special Jury Prize)

See you in the funny pictures.

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Bad Mad Bunkers

Creative Writing, Satire and Humour No Responses »

Jul 062012

By Bob Smith.

Bunkers noo are in the shit
Some fair div tak the mick
Is yer bunker a couthie chiel
Or jist anither greedy prick
.
Parliament nae langer kens fit’s fit
Tap bunkers noo rule the roost
Weel o coorse we aa div ken
Their bunk balances aa git a boost
.
Lots o siller as a bonus is gien
Ti cyards faa appruved the cheatin
Time ti kick them faar it hurts
Nivver myn their bliddy greetin

Time we hid mair local bunks
Faar ye tauk ti a human face
Nae aye hingin on the phone
Ti be telt yer in seventh place
.
Shut doon the stock exchange
Gie investors back their cash
Crooked traders in “the City”
Wid see their empires crash
.
Stop the swickin aa ower the lan
It’s time tae git aff oor hunkers
An tell the bobbies far ti pit
Thae bunch o bad, mad bunkers

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Image Credit: HOLIDAY WITH MONEY© Andy Brown | Dreamstime.com

Scotland Ma Scotland

Creative Writing No Responses »

Jun 282012

By Bob Smith.

O Scotland ma Scotland
Iss lan o ma birth
Yer beauty astounds ma
Be it muntin or firth
.
Yer bonnie glens are quairt
Fair rushin are yer burns
Lazy are some rivers
Wi their twists an turns
.
Yer moods they can be varied
Fyles gey roch an weet
Afen saft an gintle
Like an ivver luvin geet

A mervel at yer wildlife
As fin the eagle soars
A watch the seals an wadin birds
As a dander alang yer shores
.
Yer winters can be affa bleak
Grun happit wi ice an snaw
Bit in simmertime fooivver
There is a magic fit is braw
.
A luv life here in Scotia
Noo lit there be nae doot
O her beauty an her grandeur
A wull forivver spoot

Ground-Breaking Pilot For New Reality TV Show

Creative Writing, Featured, Satire and Humour No Responses »

Jun 282012

Gubby Plenderleith, our Special Correspondent for Arts, Culture and the Media, reports on the ground-breaking pilot for a new reality TV show.

It’s forty four years since Andy Warhol first forecast the future in which everybody would be famous for fifteen minutes.
That future has well and truly come and while not everyone has achieved fame, the current crop of reality TV shows has ensured that far more people than ever have realised a degree of celebrity that could never have been envisaged in 1968.

But while reality TV to date has favoured the younger members of its audience – the Club 18 to 30 of society if you like – production company Endthemall is currently piloting a show where the stars will all be senior citizens.

The idea of the show is for a group of pensioners to share a house for two weeks, with a range of tasks, treats and penalties being administered by ‘Big Daddy’ in order to see how they interact.

The working title for the show is Grandad’s House and, having been lucky enough to be invited to view some of the footage which has already been recorded, I offer you below a taster of what we can expect to see when the show is aired nationwide.

6.13 pm Bill and Gladys are tidying up in the kitchen. Rose prepared the tea tonight – sausage rolls and alphabetti spaghetti – and is now fast asleep on the couch beside Tom, who’s slowly packing the few remaining strands of what’s still left of this week’s Tam o’ Shanter into his pipe. Meanwhile, in the boys’ bedroom, Jack has stretched out on the top of his bed and snores gently, the gentle rhythm broken only by the occasional expulsion of flatulence.

6.42 pm Bill and Gladys have finished in the kitchen and gone into the garden. Bill’s trying to play bowls, but the chickens keep escaping from their pen and cluster around the jack.

Maggie, who’s been trying all week to get one of the boys to hold his hands out in the regulation manner in order that she can wind her wool, has given up and sits quietly on the deck area.

6.59 pm Matt, the oldest person in the house, is telling them all again how old he is.

“We know you’re 93,” says Tom, “you’ve told us every hour of every day since we’ve got here!”

“Have I?” asks Matt and tells them again.

7.02 pm The Housechums, having successfully completed this week’s task – staying in bed until 7 o’clock on at least one morning – are putting together their shopping list. Gladys is again lobbying for an extra bottle of Sanatogen Wine, while Matt reminds everyone that the ten cartons of Steradent they ordered last week have already run out.

“It’s not funny when you get to my age,” he says, “I’m 93 you know!”

7.05 pm Matt tells the Housechums again that he’s 93. Tom swears under his breath and passes wind.

7.11 pm Jack appears in the living room and tells everyone that there must be something wrong with the drains. They ask him why and he tells them that there’s one hell of a smell in the bedroom.

7.14 pm Maggie shuffles into the living room and asks if anyone knows where the Rennies are. Jean, who’s been sleeping quietly in the corners, wakes up tells her they’re where they always-bloody-are! Maggie asks her where that is and Jean tells her she knows damned fine before nodding off again.

Matt starts to tell her about a sergeant named Rennie who was in the Black Watch with him, but she tells him not to start and waddles off to the girls’ bedroom.

7.21 pm Matt asks Gladys if it’s time for tea yet and Jack tells him they’ve already had their tea. Matt asks him what he had and whether he enjoyed it.

7.27 pm Big Daddy tells the Housechums that, as a special treat, they’re to be allowed to watch Coronation street tonight. Maggie and Gladys both tell everyone that it’s their favourite programme and how that Gail Tilsley’s no better than she should be. Jack says it’s a load of pish and Matt starts to tell them how old he is but falls asleep before he finishes the sentence.

7.34 pm Gladys, Maggie and Jean sit watching television when Bill wanders in from the garden and ask them what crap’s on the telly now. They tell him that Big Daddy is letting the Housechums watch Coronation Street as a special treat.

Bill tells them that the only reason he came into the Grandad’s House was to get away from bloody Coronation Street, bloody East Enders and bloody Emmerdale. They tell him that he missed out River City and he tells them that it’s the best bloody programme on the bloody telly and how he’s always been interested in boats and sailing before going back out to the garden.

7.42 pm During the commercial break Jean goes into the kitchen to put the kettle on while Jack and Tom get up to go to the toilet. Maggie asks them where they’re going and, when they tell her, she reminds them that this will be the third time they’ve gone in the last hour.

Matt tells them how convenient his colostomy bag is.

7.57 pm With Coronation Street finished, the Housemates hope that Big Daddy will let them watch the next programme but the screen goes blank.

8.02 pm The Housechums have returned to compiling this week’s shopping list. Maggie and Jean are discussing the relative merit of two different brands of pork luncheon meat, while Jack tells them not to get any eggs as he’s been bound for the last five days.

8.13 pm Bill comes in from the garden and announces that he’s going to his bed. The Housechums all agree that this is an excellent idea as they’ve got to be up early in the morning and join him.

Clearly Endthemall have worked their particular brand of magic again and we can look forward to yet another example of the kind of reality TV that has made British broadcasting what it is today.

Image Credit: © Frenk And Danielle Kaufmann | Dreamstime.com

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Annie’s Fired Her Gun

Creative Writing, Satire and Humour 6 Responses »

Jun 222012

By Bob Smith.

A quine ca’ed Annie Lennox
His kickit up an affa stir
Rubbishin the “gairdens” plan
Some fowk are in a birr

Gweed on ye Annie quine
Fer ca’in the plans jist crap
Ye’ve ruffled a fyow feathers
Widdie’s gang are in a flap

Ye’ve ivvery richt ti hae yer say
An hark back ti the 60’s folly
Fin biggin bliddy concrete trash
Wis thocht maist affa jolly

St Nicholas Hoose fer a stairt
Faa drimt up iss ugly wart?
Syne they blockit aff George Street
Planners didna gie a fart

Yon college doon bye Holburn
Wisna pleesin ti the ee
It seenwis aa knockit doon
In case students hid ti flee

The fauchie new Uni library
Some think it anither boob
A square biggin made o gless
A muckle giant Rubik’s cube

Oor toon is in an affa mess
Fer ‘eers hisna bin weel run
Noo if things still gyang agley
Shout “Annie Get Yer Gun”

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012

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The Fairm Road

Aberdeenshire, Creative Writing No Responses »

Jun 142012

By Bob Smith.

I bade doon a fairm road
It wis roonaboot twa mile lang
Twistin its wye throwe the widd
Back an fore ti skweel I’d gyang

Fower fairms war on iss road
An a bonnie wee cottage forbye
Richt at the eyn o iss roadie
Wis far oor fairm hame did lye

There wis rodden trees an spruces
An gean trees nae far fae hame
There wis larik trees an beech eens
An sycamore or wis’t a plane?

Throwe the widd an doon the howe
The road wis gey steenie an bumpy
The grocers’ vans hid ti tak their time
Iss made the drivers a bittie grumpy

In winter time the snaw dang doon
Fillin the road up ower the dykes
Fowk fin they cam fae roon aboot
Fun they cwidna use their bikes

The roadie noo his chynged a bit
Some trees hiv been cut doon
Bit I still gyang in bye the road
Far I waakit fin Iwisa loon

Sixty ’Ears “On The Throne”

Creative Writing, Satire and Humour No Responses »

Jun 072012

By Bob Smith.

Her Majesty she his bin
Sixty ’ears “on the throne”
She maan hae a sair belly
Littin oot an antrin groan

A gweed laxative ‘tis needed
Ti aise the puir wumman’s woes
Efter sixty ’ears “on the throne”
Ye’d hae ti maximise the dose

Noo am nae an anti royalist
Nor a supporter o the croon
Bit “on the throne” aa iss time
Maan git Her Majesty doon

Raise a gless o Syrup o Figs
As a toast ti Her Majesty
Efter sixty ’ears “on the throne”
Fae win micht she bide free

A ken richt weel wi iss poem
Een or twa micht nae see reason
An ca upon the powers aat be
Ti hae me jiled fer treason

QueenVictoria micht hae said
We are nae amused
Clap the mannie in irons
Iss canna be excused

So ony mail addressed ti me
An ma trial cwid need fundin
Jist sen it ti “The Poetry Mannie”
C/O The Tower o London

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Image: Creative Commons © Terry Johnston
http://www.flickr.com/photos/powerbooktrance/

Old Susannah No. 80: Alphabet Soup, And A Farewell

Creative Writing, Satire and Humour 1 Response »

Jun 072012

Voice’s Old Susannah comments on current events and enlightens us with definitions of some tricky terms with a locally topical taste. This week, more ABZ ‘A to Z’, some ATOS, and thoughts on the sad loss of a Voice colleague. By Suzanne Kelly.

Tally Ho! It’s all been happening up and down the country, and whatever you think of the Jubilee, isn’t it grand that our ConDems have got the unemployed something to do. Not only have they apparently been given important (albeit temporary) jobs as stewards at Jubilee events, but our government employment arm has combined this great work experience with a holiday.

Lucky invitees from the ranks of the unemployed enjoyed several days in London, camping under the stars (and a tiny bit of rain) to help run Jubilee events. I have nothing against the Jubilee itself, and it is great to see people getting back to work.

Soon some of our lazier unemployed, including MS and cancer patients, will be given suitable jobs too; all thanks to our Coalition and ATOS, the kind (foreign) organisation which assess who’s fit for work and who’s not (and gives work to absolutely all of these people anyway).

While the layabouts got to layabout in lovely tents in London, it’s come to our attention that Conservative co-chairperson MP Lady Warsi was roughing it as well. While this frugal woman would apparently stay in cheap B&Bs or kipped on a friend’s sofa (as befits someone of her office), she’d put in expense claims for the maximum amount allowable, and seems to have travelled to Pakistan with a relative/business partner in tow. Result!

Nothing wrong with having a bit of an earner now and then, as long as you’re not unemployed. Voice readers might like to know Warsi’s never won an election. Interestingly she was a ‘community cohesion’ guru of sorts (I’ll have to define ‘community cohesion’ sometime), despite some allegations that her election material was homophobic. It is a funny old world indeed, and we are extremely generous taxpayers.

Old Susannah was up in the lovely town of Helmsdale for a long weekend.

This pretty coastal town is missing several tricks however. There are no concrete high-rise buildings, no development plans, and not even a ring road. There are several grassy areas with no granite webs planned, and the seashore doesn’t have any bingo halls, amusement arcades or huge factories. And somehow, without so much as a single shopping mall, the people were friendly, cheerful and happy.

I met a lovely man nicknamed ‘Klondike Davy’ who took me panning for gold. I say he is nice, but one or two people in the town have ridiculed him in the past apparently. You see, he’s given prizes for the region’s highland games in the form of the valuable gold and garnet gemstones he’s found while panning.

The criticism from a minority, quite rightly, is that he’s given valuables and his time and efforts away for nothing. People like that, or who give money to charities, run parties in Victorian Gardens and so on just aren’t stimulating the economy and are obviously mugs.

Apparently some of the lovely schools are in the wrong place, even after all the 3Rs strategic planning and expensive consultants

We don’t need great acts of generosity, children having fun, family days in parks with music – we need to encourage businesses to come to Scotland. This can only be done by getting scroungers to work and by building granite webs. Perhaps in 20 years’ time people will still remember having a great day out or winning a unique, valuable gift of gold.

Or perhaps in 20 years’ time people will still remember people being generous to a fault. I know which I think is more likely.

Before we continue with our romp through ACC’s A to Z of its spectrum of services, spare a thought for our school children. Apparently some of the lovely schools are in the wrong place, even after all the 3Rs strategic planning and expensive consultants. I think we should close them all down and build new ones.

But if the children aren’t busy worrying about the unending cycle of exams they are expected to take, like so many dogs jumping through flaming hoops, another worry looms. No, not lingering asbestos in Walker Road School, now completely clear of contaminants (I’m sure). I can reveal that Aberdeen Football Club plan to give schools more unsold/unsellable tickets for the home games.

In this heart-breaking development, inconsolable youngsters were given the news they’ll be expected to pack the empty seats. One young person, close to tears, told Old Susannah

“It’s bad enough to know that AFC is our team and that soon we’ll build an even more empty stadium near Loirston Loch, but to actually have to sit through a match will be torture. Not to mention the cost of a coke and burger.”

Reports that child welfare agencies may step in are as yet unconfirmed. A further rumour suggests unemployed might be forced to attend games – but those surveyed so far have expressed a preference for sleeping in tents in the rain along the Thames.

Finally, Willows Animal Sanctuary needs help (the government only has funds for consultants), and it was such a pleasure to see a big help arriving in the form of Paul Rodgers and wife Cynthia.
(See article – ‘Willows Name New Patrons Paul Rodgers And Cynthia Kereluc’ in this weeks issue. )

The last time Old Susannah had seen Mr Rodgers (or ‘Paul’ as he said I should call him) was in the late 1980s, backstage at a concert for the Firm (if you don’t know – you should – Tony Franklin, Chris Slade, Jimmy Page and Paul Rodgers). John Bonham’s son Jason was the opening act (if memory serves this band of his was called ‘Virginia Woolf’ – but don’t quote me). Good times.

The couple are animal lovers to serious extremes, as I’ll describe next week. It was a pleasure to meet them and to visit all the animals at Willows (although I did forego the exotic insects). PS – The New Ark also could use our support.

Right – on with some more listings from the Aberdeen City Council’s matrix of services.

H is for Housing: – but to examine the city’s housing services, policies and expenditures – to say nothing of properties sitting empty – will take a bit more than a column to sort. Consider this on hold for now.

I is for Insects: – Yes, you guessed correctly – the link takes you back to the list of extermination services mentioned last week. I wonder if in the jungles on the equator so many insects and forms of vermin exist as must do here in Aberdeen.

J is for Jobs: – Yes, you can work for the council, and as an added bonus, the city will give you its beneficial assistance when it comes to knowing what you can and cannot complain about in public. The city has apparently told its employees not to get involved with protests over school closures, park destruction, turning Hazelhead into a recycling centre and so on.

The city kindly warns its employees what will happen if they turn whistle-blower, yet somehow seems not to tell them in what circumstances they are meant to be whistle-blowers (as covered previously). I would have expected to see a great deal of jobs for exterminators and pest controllers given the coverage this issue gets on the website, but no such jobs appear this week.

There are jobs for trainee planners (which may interest some of our recently unemployed ex-councillors), and indeed a few vacancies for Freedom of Information Officers – hopefully filling these FOI posts will speed things up.

K is for Kerb: – Old Susannah wondered what would pop up when I clicked on the link for kerb: would it be a reference to the wonderful, smooth, well repaired and dog mess free kerbs we enjoy? Would it be a reference to our former councillor who was arrested for kerb crawling?

No – there is a procedure for changing your kerb. Do you want to go wide? Do you want to change it? Well, there is a dedicated person and procedure. Sleep well tonight in this knowledge.

L is for – actually lots and lots of things: – ‘literacy and numeracy’ spring up (good to know the city is numerate, even if it can’t keep track of its millions or the employees who have embezzled hundreds of thousands over the years), as does my favourite ‘Lord Provost’ (I wonder if the new one will be as frugal – and portrait-worthy as the previous?). L is for Local Plan, Local Development Plan, Local Transport strategy and so on.

But L is for litter. If you’ve wondered why our streets are the envy of Europe, it’s because of our policy:-

“…it is an offence to drop or leave litter in any public place even if thrown from a vehicle. City Wardens assist the local community in maintaining a clean litter free environment and are authorised to issue Fixed Penalty Notices should the need arise.” – Aberdeen City website

Well, I doubt the need will ever arise for a warden to issue a fixed penalty notice, but if you should ever encounter the rare spectacle of someone littering – like the guy wearing a council badge (he had dark hair and a beard) last Thursday evening who put his trash in the doorway of a closed store on Union Street), then call the city, the wardens will spring into action, and the litter will be cleared away.

But that’s enough for now on the alphabet. Time for something a bit serious and sad.

One of the Aberdeen Voice Team has passed away; you might have seen something about this on Facebook or elsewhere in the Voice. She will be sorely missed by friends, colleagues and her family. It was an unforeseen tragedy.

Can I please please urge anyone who is starting to be unhappy for any reason at all or dissatisfied with their life to open up about their feelings at an early stage. There is a friend, colleague or relative who wants to help you, I promise. They would be devastated if they lost you – believe me. If you’re too proud or too afraid to talk to someone in your life (which is totally understandable), then talk to a counsellor. But don’t let things get worse.

Like any problem, the best thing to do is get on top of it while it is still small. If things are already on top of you, then I’m begging you to do something constructive about it today.

A great deal has been done to break down the outdated stigmas attached to depression and other forms of mental illness. It is not a sign of weakness; it is not a sign of inferiority. Above all, it is something that can be dealt with.

Whoever you are, whatever side of the political or economic divide, you are valuable, you are needed, and you have contributions to make. Do please remember that.

Readers are invited to add their views on any issue in this article in the comments box below. Note – all comments will be moderated.

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