THIS week, I am treading softly and avoiding sudden movements, thanks to a hefty hangover after a bibulous blowout, not celebrating Comply or Die’s Grand National win – I detest what Aintree can do to beautiful horses – but rejoicing, instead, at a birth in a delightful immigrant family at Kincraig, near Kingussie.
When I heard that Daniella was born there two weeks ago, I dived straight for an unopened bottle of Macallan. That’s a real rarity in my drinks cabinet – finding an unopened bottle, that is.
Since Daniella’s family arrived at Kincraig from their Himalaya homeland, they haven’t said a word, however. That’s hardly surprising as they are, in fact, Mishmi takins. No, that doesn’t mean they run a chain of unusual takeaways, but that they are goat antelopes, a sort of cross between a goat and a small ox, found mainly in the forests of the eastern Himalayas, and at the Highland Wildlife Park, too.
Takins might not do too well in the wildlife equivalent of the Miss Universe contest, but I reckon they are pretty cute. They also have thick wool that some believe might be the origin of the tale of the golden fleece. Daniella has no worries from being chased by a modern-day Jason and his Argonauts, however, as her only real pursuers are the hordes of visitors trying to photograph her.
It’s significant that a species of goat should have such a high profile this week, as there are plenty of other silly-billys vying for attention, too.
There is a herd of them in the council chamber in Aberdeen, of course, although the likely closure of Doonies model farm might leave them homeless. Despite the strength of feeling that led many hundreds to march through Aberdeen on Saturday in protest at swingeing council cuts.
It’s pathetic to hear councillors bleating about their troubles while blaming everyone but themselves for boom turning to bust.
Another acting the goat is the ubiquitous Donald Trump, who seems to have contracted foot and mouth disease. Every time he opens his mouth, he puts his foot in it. The latest reported gem from the New Yorker with an ego bigger than a Manhattan skyscraper quotes him as saying that one reason he was definitely going to secure planning permission for his massive Menie Estate development was that his mother was Scottish. Well, whoop-de-doo.
A word in your lug, Mr T. Most folk who live here, such as myself, have Scottish mothers, and fathers, and grandparents, too, and it makes not a blind bit of difference to the planning process. So shut it, big man, and get back in the queue.
By the way, when you say 90% of people in the area back your plans, how do you know? You might be right, but as you have never asked me, or my neighbours or my friends, I suggest you’re talking tosh. Again.
But while the Trump saga might have a happy ending, eventually, that’s unlikely for the closure-threatened forensics laboratory in Aberdeen that serves Grampian Police and Northern Constabulary. If ever a proposal was made by silly goats, this is it.
The lab employs 47 skilled forensics staff who deal with some 5,000 cases each year. Their professional and technical skills have brought many criminals to justice who might otherwise be roaming the streets causing chaos. Their work is painstakingly detailed and, at times, stomach-churning. This is no tidy peak-time TV drama featuring convenient DNA and magical fingerprints, but real life in all its hair-raising horror.
The proposal to close the Aberdeen lab and move its functions to Dundee, where five forces would share the facilities, is criminal, indeed, especially as it has been mooted by the Glasgow-based Scottish Police Services Authority (SPSA), a “non-departmental public body”, the very mention of which makes my heart sink faster than an east-end gang victim shod in concrete wellies.
The SPSA says its purpose is “to provide expert policing and support services to Scotland's eight police forces and criminal justice community and bring about relevant changes within policing support functions necessary to make this support more efficient”. Quite.
Whenever such a body mentions efficiency, it’s usually shorthand for cutbacks. It seems incredible to me that any cuts are on the agenda at a time when police resources have rarely been more stretched or pressure to clear crimes greater.
To support crime-busting officers in our communities, we need local experts based in the north and north-east who know the patch and who build good relationships with local officers, not centralised units that please only the brainless bean-counters. The SPSA should leave the Aberdeen lab alone and go and find a more likely target to yield real efficiency savings. How about itself, perhaps?
I have no time for “non-departmental public bodies” and the goats who champion them. They’re just the nanny state gone mad.
Finally, to my heroes of the week and an avalanche of admiring glances to lovely Gemma Sutherland, 21, from Aberdeen, who has become the latest in a line of successful north-east beauty queens by landing the Miss Scotland title.
Gemma joins the likes of Nicola McLean, Ellon, who was crowned Miss Scotland in 2006, and Rachael Tennant, from Milltimber, who was named Miss Great Britain last year. She will now go forward to the UK finals of the Miss Universe competition where she will do us proud, for certain.
It’s no surprise to us Scots to have it recognised again that women from the north and north-east are among the best-looking on the planet. Those who bleat about beauty contests being outdated, sexist anachronisms, however, are just daft old goats who should be sent out to graze.
Like the arrival of Daniella, the baby Mishmi takin, I reckon beauty contests are a glittering ray of sunshine in an otherwise rather grey and drab world. Here’s to Gemma and to Daniella. Each, in their own way, does us a power of good.
So, despite the hangover, cheers.