When I saw that headline I was somewhat confused. Harris First Woman To Get Presidential Powers, it said.
Who on earth is the first woman of Harris? I’ve no idea. The Isle of Harris is just a wee extension to the Isle of Lewis with a couple of thousand people living there.
Wait. Heck, it must be Morag Munro MBE. Now she is getting presidential powers? By jove, Mrs Munro is doing well for herself since she retired as a councillor.
Mrs Munro and I go way back. Long before she became chair of education, a fresh-faced Miss Macleod was my accountancy teacher, back when Watergate was far more interesting than profits, losses and liabilities. Not so much that I actually understood the allegations about those tapes, but my old man was gripped. I was astonished that whenever President Richard Milhous Nixon came on the telly, my father would shout “blackguard”, or the Gaelic equivalent.
He would then announce that the presidential eyes were far too close together for high office. I once saw Father fling his slipper at the 19-inch 405-lines Murphy TV set that had dared bring the awful monochrome image of the since-pardoned scoundrel into our home.
Then it was back to school on Monday, where Miss Macleod’s probing eyes would look me up and down and she’d ask how my trial balance was getting on. Questions, questions. I thought I too was being impeached.
What if I say: “Please miss, my dad thought my homework was his slipper and he threw it at Richard Nixon.” No? OK.
When I read that the Harris woman getting presidential powers was Kamala Harris, who stood in for Joe Biden while he was having a wee nap somewhere, I was gutted. Hang on in there, Mrs Munro. Another great honour will come round soon.
‘Have I told you lately I now despise you?’
Not everyone’s turn comes round, though. I am thinking of Rod Stewart, waiting every day to hear that Bob Geldof was inviting him to the worldwide famine relief fundraiser that was Live Aid.
Why was Rod Stewart not at Live Aid? His then manager never told him he had taken the call. Because Mr Geldof could not guarantee him a spot on the 10 o’ clock news, the manager said he wasn’t interested. “But it’s going to be …” Receiver slammed down.
Rod has only recently discovered this. He is fizzing. He may write a song. How about:
Have I told you lately I now despise you?
Have I told you everybody else is above you?
Rod will forgive and forget. It was a long time ago.
It wasn’t that long ago that a comedy drama about a refugee’s experience on a fictional Scottish island, shot in a place uncannily like the Isle of Benbecula, won a string of film awards. Four Scottish Baftas for Limbo, about a group of stranded refugees. It has won various other awards. Now, four Scottish Baftas for best feature film, best actor in a film for Amir El-Masry, best film writer and also best fiction director for its determined creator, Ben Sharrock. Wow.
The Dolly Parton diet
My friend Jo was born a long time ago. I hadn’t seen her for a while because Jo’s been on a diet. Impressive results. When I asked which weight loss programme she was on, she said it was the Dolly Parton. I’d never heard of it. Like a wee ballerina, she picked up the hem of her frock and glided round the cold meat aisle singing: “Jo lean, Jo lean, Jo lean.”
Jo was looking for clothes but she didn’t understand Black Friday. I told her it was a sale, a month before Christmas. Some goods would be up to 50% off, I explained. She then whimpered: “I’m not good at arithmetic. What is 50% off?”
It is half off, I told her. Then she asked: “Does that include everything – like men’s clothes and underwear?” I said I thought they’d take 50% off everything.
Next thing, Jo is on the phone to her friend Kirsty. I couldn’t help but overhear. “A Chiorstaidh, remember we were at those male strippers after we were at the wedding in Aberdeen? There’s something similar happening at the clothes shop on Cromwell Street on Friday. We have to go. I have just seen that guy Maciver who writes in The Press and Journal. He says there will be treats for everyone. Listen to this – the men’s pants will be half off.”
