The Other Scottish Storyteller

One Half of Lee and Herring

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 21:52:00 +0000

... was the darkly witty Stewart Lee.

I have gone mental for him! I watched a bit of Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle on YouTube, and was hooked. I thought he was a sarcastic idiot when he was first on the scene in the late 80s and early 90s with his mate Richard Herring. BBC7 have just finished repeating Lee and Herring's Fist of Fun, and he was wicked then!

the smile is deceptive

Anyway, I utterly love his laconic delivery which isn't self-deprecating or melancholic like Jack Dee, but self-righteous and smart. Comedy Vehicle is Stewart's lastest excuse to lay forth on various subjects including Books, Religion, TV and the economy. Watched that one last week on Dave (the home of witty banter - as they say), and the funniest analogy was when he spoke about debt being destroyed by being fired into a long tube and smashed into credit - anyone who watched QI XL when Ben Miller and Rob Brydon snogged will remember Ben yapping on about the Large Hedron Collider in Switzerland, and that's the comparison Stewart was making. Gee, why isn't he on QI or the like? He's smart enough!

waxing sarcastic - Stewart Lee in his 'Comedy Vehicle'

He's a 'cuddly' comedian, with the vitriol of a viper! In anticipating critics of his 21st century bulk, he said 'I've just consolidated my fat into one easy but equally massive unit of fat', mocking the slogan of many credit companies offering debt-relief.

He berates Dan Brown's simplistic writing style. The DaVinci Code, Stewart says 'is not great literature', and reads a line from the overblown conspiracist novel 'The famous man looked at the red cup.'

Stewart Lee, you are great.
(and this post was an unashamed excuse for me to drool!)

Curiouser and curiouser, thought Alice...

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 22:59:00 +0000

... who would have thought you could get cakes that say 'eat me' in Aberdeen??

Well, you can, and I found them in a FANTASTIC new shop called Johnny Come Lately. JCL is Fay's shop, in George Street, two doors down from Party Mania, across from Maberley Street, for those of you who are local bloggers. Fay sells lots of dead cool eclectic stuff, some of her own creations and others by local and Scottish artists and craftspeople, including I Like's Anne, from Glasgow and my mate Gabi Reith.

Tonight was JCL's Alice in Wonderland discount night, hence the title of this post. We had cakes, wine, chat and lots of lovely things to ponder over buying!

Cakes were supplied by Maggie - of Maggie's Cupcakes and very lovely too. I haven't the heart to eat mine yet! (Wine courtesy of Makro I think!!) You MUST order cakes from her - I once was at a wedding where there was no cake, but hundreds of little cupcakes - what a fabby idea! So, let's have the first local wedding with Maggie cakes!

Here is the stunning Alice cupcake I chose - shedding sugar stars like a comet! Num num!

We got goodie bags - here is what I found in mine:

Flump sweetie
Rose-shaped candle and glass holder
Shiny pink purse (with a pin badge of a clown inside)
Blue ring
Greeting card

I put the cake in it and two postcards for other local designers, The Junction and Antoinette Jewellery.

And I bought a great ring - perfect considering all the hearts I've been designing lately for the IheartUTG campaign - a sparkly, orange heart... with my 15% discount too!

(My fingers are really NOT that podgy!)

Now that's just darling! This is the sort of shop I've wanted in Aberdeen for YEARS. It reminds me of Loot - late-lamented wonderful trinket emporium in St. Andrews which I miss like mad - and Bonkers, another St Andrews store which still exists, thankfully, who also sell cool and bizarre stuff. So, hooray Fay, your dizzy decision to open your shop was the right one! Hoping very much to see some designs from fellow blogger Elle Carter of American Duchess Apparel in the next wee while, as we've been Facebooking to sort out something. So Johnny Come Lately could be the first truly international art store in Aberdeen! Great stuff!

BTW - the origin of the name... I don't know if Fay references any of these, but putting my folklorist's hat on, here are some factoids about the phrase/name 'Johnny Come Lately'

1. Dictionary Def...

n. Informal, pl., John·ny-come-late·lies, or John·nies-come-late·ly (jŏn'ēz-).
A newcomer or latecomer, especially a recent adherent to a cause or trend.

2. A 1943 film starring James Cagney about a drifter who helps a woman save her ailing newspaper

3. An indie rock band

4. A song by Catatonia

5. A song by Steve Earle

6. A Florida blog about the restaurant industry!

And that's just what I could find on Google!

Which just goes to show, if you call your shop that, you are a trend-setter, rather than a follower! Good luck, Fay, and lets hope there are many more 'cake nights' to come!!

Arty Quine - Celebrating Images of Scotland

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 23:38:00 +0000

Announcing the launch of a new commercial venture - Arty Quine Scottish Products

Scottish Images - art and photography by local artist, Jane Swan, at her Zazzle shop which can be reached via the wiki site - here

Examples of products:

iheartutg campaign t-shirt featuring flower power heart design (this type of shirt £20)

Black and White 'Ringer' Mug with Dark Flower Power Design (£14.00)

Inverallochy Castle Postcards (£1.25 each; £8 for a set of 8)

Aberdeen Beach Shelter Postcards (£1.25 each £8 for a set of 8)

Do come and buy!!! http://www.zazzle.com/artyquine

insert - heart - here

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 22:10:00 +0000

Aberdeen's artists are alive and well!

After messing about hob-nobbing with film-types at the ODR Aberdeen premiere, it was sooo refreshing to get back to old-fashioned hand made creativity. No offence to messers Clark and Stirton, but speaking as someone who used to love drawing, I do prefer pencil and paper.

Insert follows on the back of the fabulous I Heart UTG campaign, displaying 'hearts' from different local artists, some established, some recent art school graduates like the wonderful Katie Guthrie who started the campaign, and selling them in order to help fund more publicity for the campaign!

I couldn't resist!

Unknowningly, when I saw the artwork I fell for, I'd picked Katie's! I said to her, 'I've seen the one I want,' and I pointed it out to her, and she said, 'That's mine!' I don't think she believed I really meant it!! But I did. I will post a proper pic when it comes off the wall. It's a heart made up of dots, based on the colour-blindness test.

Katie writing SOLD under me heart...

Why did I fall for it? Two reasons, colour, blues and pinks - blue goes with my spare room, pink has always been one of my fave colours (mix of red and purple, which are my faves); AND when I was little and lived in our old house, we had 'the Book of Colour', a riot, nay a feast of colourful pix, and one of the things was the colour-blindness test. That's when I found out my Dad can't tell red and green from grey, and I'm perfectly fine! But I loved and adored that book, there was everything about colour, colour in nature, colour in culture, pop-art, traditional painting, cars, things, pots of paint, light, laser, wow, if ever I loved a book... I have another one called 'Dreamlands' which is a collection of illustrations from a graphic artist, and I just sit and look at it. Same thing, a feast for the eyes.

So Katie, you brought back memories of sitting in the sun lounge on dark winter afternoons, drooling over the fabulous, unimaginable colours that showed a magical world that I wanted to disappear into. If ever there was a colour 'Bible', that was it.

Anyway! The rest of the hearts had just about sold out by 7.30pm, only 1hr and a half into proceedings!

Met Phil and Gabi, the Thompson-Reiths, - Gabi of course being Sara Reith's sister, and Sara my fellow PhD-er. Their little girl was there, a vision in pink. She looks affa like her cousin Ailsa, same big green eyes, that must be a Reith trait! Anyway, Poppy was noming up the jelly beans, as was I. She was intrigued with the heart made out of two speakers, the roundels forming the top bit of the heart, especially cos there was sound coming out of them! Now that's what I like, that goes down the road of Scrapheap challenge, foraying into the land of cars and engineering which I also like - esp after a discussion on Facebook about men in sheds, and the lucious James May from Top Gear, who is a man who loves mucking about making things in sheds.

Anyway, back to the art, another intriguing heart was a book, with a heart stitched in what looked like thick raffia thread right through it. Phil had a chalk on slate anatomical drawing of a heart and Jo Gannon had a weird but cool Gothic-biker-megadeath-stylee heart with skulls. Hmm!

Jo's Biker-Goth-Megadeath heart

Gabi had a selection of postcards which I had already seen at Tea Cosy (more on that in a forthcoming post), but they all featured a heart. The selkie and the birds were my faves.

Gabi's beautiful bird

I only wish there had been more! I can visualise thousands in my head. Time I got my one done.

Anyway - the lack of blogging has all been due to the thesis, which has less than three weeks to go now, and I've spent most of my leisure time on Facebook, moaning to aabody about it! I found out most of my fellow bloggers are far more avid Facebookers, tsk tsk! anyway, it lead me into our city's contemporary art world, and that's fine by me.

Maybe I should do a selection of me own heart patterns??

Well, back to the grindstone... but I may go via the pencil and paper!

I LOVE UTG

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 14:46:00 +0000

You'll notice there's a new badge on the blog sidebar - I'm demonstrating my support for the campaign to protect Union Terrace Gardens from destruction!!

The campaign, which so far includes a petition, badges, activities, was set up by art student Katie Guthrie, initially to support Peacock Visual Arts in their bid to hold on to their proposed development of Union Terrace Gardens which would build an arts centre into the existing site. Peacock, as I mentioned on an earlier post, already HAD planning permission, but the City Council's greed and financial mismanagement led to them falling over themselves to sook up to a certain local tycoon - no not Mr Trump - who plans to concrete over the gardens and make a ridiculous 'civic square' where there is no room for one!!! How's that for stupidity? You give permission to one group, then someone with more money comes along and you say, right, we'll put the first group out of business so we can line our pockets! That's wrong on so many levels!!!

Right, you all know what I'm on about. Katie sent me an email urging those of us who don't want to see our historic gardens, home of the Corbie Haugh, a remnant of one of the few indigenous woods in the city, to fill in GreenStat's survey about UTG - yes you can say its rubbish right now, but you need to say what better things money could be spent on to make it good again!!

The link here takes you to the City Council web site, then that links to GreenStat's survey - you also get access to any of their other surveys about green spaces all over Britain, but just click on Scotland, register your details (you can remain anonymous), and click the button to do surveys on parks, then you can pick UTG.

Vox Populi, Vox Dei, as they say - if we don't speak out, the council will just carry on with its self-centred greedy ways - just look at Mr Cassie!! oops, well, that's public domain.

We voted for these eejits - well, maybe we didn't, but somebody did, let's make them accountable!!!

The badge on the sidebar will take you to Katie's campaign site - there is one on Facebook too, which is at the moment advertising a mystery treasure hunt! Cool!

Stanley Robertson 1940-2009 - RIP

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 22:47:00 +0000

Stanley, in his element

Master Storyteller, singer, balladier, the last of the great Traveller tradition-bearers in the North-East of Scotland, Stanley Robertson, MUnv, died yesterday of a heartattack. He will be sorely missed by his friends, students, and listeners. The funeral is due to take place on Friday at the Mormon Church on Anderson Drive, Aberdeen. Many folk will want to come and pay their respects.

Stanley was our friend; he was the honorary president of Grampian Association of Storytellers and it was always a special night when Stanley came to a GAS meeting. I first met him when I went to a storytelling and singing circle which was hosted by the Elphinstone Institute (even before I was a student!) in Aberdeen Uni's Humanity Manse, College Bounds. I had never heard of him before and was bowled over by his fabulous folktales. And Stanley never forgot me; I sang my most favourite murder ballad - the first one I ever learned - Long Lankin, and he always commented upon it after that.

Any story I ever heard Stanley tell stuck right in my head and I was able to tell my own version. I interviewed him for the GAS newsletter a couple of years ago and he told of his difficult childhood as a Traveller bairn, despised by his teachers and hated by some of his less-than-friendly neighbours. The town represented the scaldie world, but the road... now that was the Traveller's world, one where the stories of the family were as real and as vibrant as any history book. Stanley delighted in the auld road o Lumphanan, which was guarded by Auld Crobhie, a master oak tree which had a special significance for the 'Gaun-Aboot-Folk'. Stanley's daughter Nicole brought a scaldie friend with her on one such summer trip, and the girl scoffed at the notion she should shake hands with Auld Crobhie, but the tree demonstrated its ancient power as a branch slapped the girl in the face for her ignorance.

Stanley told of how his great aunt Maggie taught him to recognise the difference between story-time and real time, as he went 'through the eye of the skull', an imaginary technique that he taught to us storytellers, and it really works! Modern people would call it 'getting in the zone', getting 'Zen', but it is the trip along the auld road into a world where there are fairies, demons, witches, and the Earl of Hell himself, as well as knights, wizards, queens, ladies, and of course, canny Traveller folk like Stanley himself, and his perennial hero, Jack.

From Stanley I realised I was remembering stories I already knew - now where they came from, perhaps buried in the memories of childhood, but I have no idea - he had a magic of his own, he could bring out the best in those who wished to learn. He taught us about things you can't ever learn in books and put new heart into old ballads like The Silkie of Sule Skerry and Lowlands Away.

Many folk will remember that amazing supernatural ballads weekend at Edzell where we were taught The Four Green Fields, the Irish rebel song. Something very strange happened when we sang it - I think we were all taken back to the land of those sorrows, to Mother Ireland, and felt her pain, because Stanley took us there. We practically raised the roof singing it. It actually sounds terrible in the recording, proving that magic can't be captured! I remember that weekend because it was the same time Maggie Fraser shared her ghost-story, I scared myself with a most spectral version of MacCrimmon's Lament, and we all had our souls stretched.

Another time of great emotion and amazing experiences was the storytelling weekend at the Grant Centre near Monymusk. We had snow, sun, blizzard winds, were chorused awake by rooks, learned about the two statues near Bennachie, the Maiden Stone and Persephone, both having fantastic tales attached; we wrote poems that were better than any of us had ever written, we made up plays, we sang, we ate, and on that last Sunday afternoon, we shared. That was when our hearts were opened like never before. There was no fear, everyone bonded together like I have never experienced.

Those are times I will treasure - as well as all the stories, all the insightful comments, the more 'fruity' jokes that came out in late sessions at our much-missed storytelling weekend at the Woodend Barn, Stanley's rapier-like perception which could destroy his enemies and comfort his friends.

He was the greatest storyteller of his generation - no-one else I know could tell stories that I immediately learned from one hearing!! I even had the guts to tell one of his stories in front of him at the last GAS meeting we were all at together - and he said it was 'nae bad,' which for Stanley was a massive compliment! He always said that if someone took a story of his, he would expect them to remain true to it, like one would polish a beautiful chalice, but not to add to it and destroy it! I know what he meant. And that story? Jack and the Devil's Auntie! It's in Exodus to Alford and has three of the cleverest riddles I've ever heard.

I'm going to end with them, and direct you to the poems from mini-site I made of the trip to Monymusk. Sadly the original mini-site has disappeared into the ether, but the poems are still there!!

What time is it when the wee dwarfie of the North is chasin his big Ma and Da?

We ken there's a man in the moon, how do we ken there's a wifie in the moon?

How can a one-eyed man see mair than you can wi two eyes?

Answers on a virtual postcard in the comments section please!!

Requiescat in pace

The Secret Life of Walter's Mittens

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 19:03:00 +0000

After a very, very long absence, we have a proper folktale!! This belongs to a very funny monologue from Gary Hogg, an illustrator and writer. He's produced a couple of albums of his stories, and the one I'm going to tell you now was read by Bernard Wrigley, from t'depths o' Lancashire! Gary Hogg is a very funny man, and speaks Geordie, which of course is a language that shares many words with Scots.

But here's the story... The Secret Life of Walter's Mittens

Poor young Walter! He'd got home to find his mother had given a great pile of his stuff to the local Scout Jumble Sale. He wasn't so bothered about his Broons and Oor Wullie annuals, or the bits for his old bike, or even the old clothes he'd grown out of, but there was one very precious pair of items that he really couldn't part with... his mittens!

That was why when the Scoutmaster and the ladies from the Guild came down to the Scout Hut that Saturday morning, they found a very cold, damp Walter huddled on the doorstep.
"Ee," commented the Scoutmaster, "Thou's na right in the heid tae be stayin up aa night, tha'd better come in!"

Walter shivered and was pleased to accept a cup of tea from the ladies as he stood by the heater and dried his wet bum.

"What's tha after at the sale, Walter? Some music? A football jersey? Must be somethin affa important that tha stayed up aa night t'be first in't queue!" one of the Guild ladies asked him.

"It's ma auld mittens! Ma granny knitted them for'ss!" Walter replied, wrapping his cold hands around the hot mug of tea.

"Ah, well, that maks aa the difference, tha canna dae withoot special things like that! Will ah look them out for yis?" she asked.

"Aye, they're a bit auld, and holey, but am not doin withoot them! They're aa colours o the rainbow, they came from an auld Persian rug me grandda brought back fae Morocco fan he was in North Africa during tha war," Walter explained.

The ladies rummaged through the clothes bags that had been brought until they found the one that had Walter's mother's address on the label. They emptied the bag out and carefully folded the trousers, skirts, old dresses, baby clothes and other things. Right at the bottom of the bag were what looked like two matted pieces of wool.

"That's them! That's ma mittens! Ow much will ah have to pay tae get them back?" Walter exclaimed.

"These auld raggedy things? Oh Walter, tha's better buying a new pair, even if yer granny made them!" the Scoutmaster commented.

"Nah, nah, ye dinna realise, they're special... they're magic." Walter's eyes glittered.

The Scoutmaster laughed, thinking Walter really had gone soft in the head. "Oh aye, well, we'll say nine pence," he told him.

Walter scrabbled in his pocket and brought out a little horseshoe-shaped leather coin-purse. He shoogled the coins out into the lid, then counted nine one pences onto the table. "There, nine pence! Now, can I have ma mittens?" he asked politely.

The ladies of the Guild gave him the mittens, admonishing him and telling him to go and wash them. Walter took no notice but shoved them on his cold hands and ran back home. The mittens stayed on his hands for the rest of the day.

Now reader, one might wonder why the poor Geordie lad wanted to profer coins of the realm for something that looked like the cat had been at it! Well, let me tell you about the secret life of those mittens...

Walter's grandfather had indeed brought back the most hideous, moth-eaten rug from his time with the Desert Rats, claiming it was a genuine Persian carpet. Walter's granny was so happy her husband had survived the war, she simply gave the carpet a quick shampoo and laid it in pride of place in front of the fire in the living room. Now, grandfather outlived the carpet, as it was clearly infested with some horrible African bug that had begun to eat it! One night, Walter remembered, as a very small boy being in his grandparents' house - his favourite place to be to hear his grandda's war stories - and seeing a fragment of coal jump from the fire, which often happened if there was a bit of slate or graphite in the fire that exploded, and suddenly the rug was smouldering!

Well! Grandma ran for the carpet beater and walloped the smoke out for all she was worth, but by the time Grandda got a pail of water and dumped it over the rug, there was a large hole in it. That was the end of the rug's days, but Walter's grandmother, being brought up with the maxim 'make do and mend', cut off the good bit of the carpet that was left, pulled it out and knitted mittens for Walter.

What no-one knew was that the market stallholder in Morocco who had sold the rug to Walter's grandfather, was actually a wizard! An Arab wizard in hiding from his enemies! His flying carpet was all he had taken with him, and had fallen on hard times - so he sold it, to a Geordie soldier.

The magic carpet had lain on the floor of Walter's grandparents' living room for years without a soul knowing it was a magic carpet, because no-one ever knew the magic word!!

The magic word was ... Alekazam!

Walter's grandparents had both passed away so there was no-one to know otherwise now.

Walter only found out by accident one day last year when he was sent for the dinnertime sandwiches. He was an apprentice at the local garage which was behind the Co-op, and being the youngest, he was always sent to the shop. It was a windy day, so the shopping list blew out of Walter's hand.

But that didn't deter our hero - Walter had an amazing memory, because he had taken a long time to learn to read, and had memorised the storybooks at school as the teacher taught them, so it looked as if he was reading, but he'd just remembered exactly what part of the story went with the pictures. This skill had come in handy.

He recited the list of his work-mates sarnies in his head as he walked around to the Co-op's front door:

"Ray has cheese, and Duffy has egg; bacon and brown sauce for Jimmy, and Billy has spam, and Alec has 'am,"

Well that was it! He'd said the magic word - "Alec-has-'am" the carpet, being of Arabian extraction perhaps had a little trouble with the Geordie accent, because it responded, as it would have done to its master on saying "Alekazam!"

From the thumb of the mitt spake a voice:

"I am a magic carpet - well, mitten - what is your wish, oh master?"

"I can fly you to anywhere - well, hopefully, given my much changed shape," the mitten said.

"Ooh, really now? Well, we could al'us go to Cup Final next May!" Walter exclaimed.

"Cup Final? No probs, I've been bored out ma brains the last fifty years on your granny's floor!" the mitten replied.

They disappeared in a cloud of smoke and sparks and whizzed through time and space until they landed in the best seat in Wembley Stadium. Of course, we can't reveal who won, but Walter cheered as his team scored six goals.

The mitts pulled him into the air as soon as the final whistle blew and they zoomed back to the present, ten minutes after Walter had left. He hurriedly went to buy his sarnies and flew back to the garage, literally!

"Oi, Walter, where's tha been? Why's tha three foot off ground?" the garage lads asked in wonder as he floated to a halt on the forecourt.

Walter recounted his amazing experience and his discovery that his mittens were indeed possessed of magical powers. "I know I musta said the magic word, but ah dinna know what it woulda been!" he told them.

"Ah, it'll likely be abracadabra," said Ray of the cheese sarnie.

"Nah, tha knows nowt," dismissed Duffy.

The lads spent the rest of the day saying any exotic and not-so-exotic word that came to mind directly to Walter's mitts.

Of course, they were totally unsuccessful. And poor Alec! Walter's little trip into space had caused the ham to go off, so Alec phoned in sick saying he'd had a terrible night.

Walter has been trying every other word he can think of every day he goes to the shop in hopes that he might hit on that magical incantation again and bring the mitts back to life.

But it is unlikely he ever will, cos Alec doesn't have ham now.

After the horror of the food-poisoning, Alec turned vegetarian, and has given up on meat entirely.

Poor Walter! The mittens' secret life are at an end... for now, anyway.

And the moral of the story is... always remember the last word you said before a magical occurence!!

This and Gary's other hilarious monologues can be found on the CD - Fairly Truthful Tales; it includes titles like The Lion, the Witch and the Warburtons, Dave the Jackal, and Jack and the Beansprouts he sells on his web site.

Avian Porcines

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 20:21:00 +0000

Mad, bad and dangerous tae ken... The Flying Pigs

At the last minute, Gwen and I decided to go and see the latest comedy offering from local comedic crew, The Flying Pigs, called 'How To Look Good Glaikit'. (English translation of glaikit = daft, stupid, space cadet) Having seen Desperate Fishwives two years ago, I wasn't impressed, and thought they were just being a straight rip-off of Scotland the What, the most fantastic all-NE Doric Scots comedy trio - and considering Johnny of the Flying Pigs is related to Buff Hardie, that wasn't hard.

But, I was amazed and delighted! What a hoot! The 'Pigs' have matured in their comedy and were right on the nose when it came to local and national events. The government was ridiculed in a way similar to the old Scotland the What's take-a-ceilidh-dance-tune-and-write-silly-words thing, but with clever, satiric, biting invective on a par with Rory Bremner. But they reserved their best vitriol for Aberdeen City Council...

Ho ho, in the best tradition of the court jester holding up a mirror to the court and showing them how they really appeared in the eyes of the people, Craig Pike, Johnny Hardie and the gang trashed the council for all it was worth... we had songs, skits, jokes, asides, and a fantastic song and dance number at the end which was accompanied cleverly by a prerecorded choir comprising of pupils from Haddo Primary School and the Aberdeen Chorus of Sweet Adelines via the plasma screen. The audience were left in no doubt with what the Pigs thought of the Cooncil! And I really hope there were some of them there, cos boy, did they get it in the neck!!

Possibly the best dig at the council was the fantastic lament for the Uptown Baths aka Bon Accord Baths done to the tune of Billy Joel's Uptown Girl. It was a rant in song, done with sensitivity and wit, but up to date, rather than a poor shadow of STW's Picture Hooses and The Ashvale. That better be going on You-Tube asap!!!

So, just I as said a few blog posts back, regarding the guy who built the castle under the hay bales, governments should be very afraid.

We also had the return of a selection of characters from the earlier show, including my fave, The Licensing Board, Johnny Hardie excellent as the desperate chairman who was so sure it was his 'shottie' for being Lord Provost, he readily agrees to anything that the lawyer, played by the slick Moray Barber, asks for, the latter also cleverly gets round 'Councillor Watson', played by Greg Gordon whose canny mannie cooncillor is all too believable!!! A nod to the sneaky backhanders and nepotism allegedly carried out by our local leaders!? Surely not! ;->

The long-suffering Wattie returned (one of Craig Pike's alter egos) with his typical Aiberdeen wifie wife, played by Greg's other half, Susan. The throttling of the sparrow was particularly hilarious - when Wattie roars 'of course am sure it's deid, I pulled its heid aff!!'

The two auld mannies were back, as were the West End men-about-town, one who is a massive liar, both sets of characters played by Johnny and Craig. The burning down of the Seaton Bowling Club has got to be the funniest story with a ring of truth in it!!

So, well done, little piglets have matured into lean, slick and mean modern porkers! In best possible way, these guys are championing the cause of local Doric humour for the 21st century!

(note glaikit dates back to at least the 17th century: v. To look foolishly or idly. #t. pp. glaikit adj. Stupid, foolish, thoughtless)

Race for Life 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 21:09:00 +0000

Nearly 6,000 women from Aberdeen city and shire ran or walked 5km to raise money for Cancer Research. And my mate Gwen was one of them!

I put a photo album on Facebook for my FB buddies, but am going to share some here for you all.

It was a sunny, hot day! I spoke to a wifie in Asda who was working at the coffee shop (Beach Asda) and she said she had done the race for the last 3 years and was annoyed cos this was the first year she hadn't gone and it was the first year it was sunny!! The beach esplanade was a sea of pink - pink t-shirts, pink wigs, pink butterfly wings, it was great! As you'll see!

I felt a little guilty just supporting, but am so inspired I have every intention of doing the race next year.

So many women, girls, babies in prams, dogs! Alot of people had notices on their backs saying who they were running for, it was wonderful. We couldn't get a shot of the girl who had put 'granny' in beads on her back. Sweet.

Well done to all, and right on to Original 106 for promoting it.

Rich Kids and their Cars

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 22:28:00 +0000

This is a bit of pet-rant of mine, especially after a recent experience.

Undergraduates at Aberdeen University clearly have TOO MUCH money!
Students? Money? Howsat? I hear you cry. Well, I really don't know, unless they're up to something, or are just lower-upper-class and can't quite afford Oxbridge, but here's my evidence for the prosecution, m'lud...

ownership of posh cars that we never could have afforded 18 years ago!!
drinking in posh bars to the extent that we have no Union, cos it went oot o business since naebody wis using it!
being so damn arrogant they act like kids in nursery in class (I know cos I gave a lecture to SENIOR HONOURS students recently, and four of them behaved worse than the 16yr olds I used to teach at a certain FE instiution not a million miles from here)
girls wearing bling-y shoes

But mainly it's the cars that do it. When I was a first year student 18 years ago at Aberdeen, I owned a Citroen 2CV, a real 'student' car! NONE of my other friends who had come to study here had cars, so it was great to be needed as a sort of unofficial taxi service!! My car was second-hand, an F-reg pastel blue 'Deux Cheveaux' called Daisy (I'll upload a real photo later) which I loved.

Not my car, but same colour, same year

The car park was full of old cars, 1980s Ford Escorts, Cortinas, cheapo 2nd hand junkyard specials in 1991, but the other day I was passing behind my old student residence in Elphinstone Road and spotted the following parked there:

This is a 2007 3-door Honda Civic Type-S, which is still worth about £15,000. My 2CV cost alot less, a fraction of that!! The cheapest insurance I could find (for research purposes) for a student in their early 20s without a part-time job for this type of car is £1,300!! So, do tell me, where are you getting the money? Does it grow on trees? It must do, cos any student that can afford that must be up to something. If parents pay for this, then, more fool them for being so blooming indulgent with their offspring!!!

Now I love the new style Honda Civic and would kill to have one. I've been driving for 19 years and working for 14 yr, but I still can't afford something like that. I'm disgusted at the WASTE of money!!

We have a range of other large, petrol-guzzling cars here, Vauxhall Astra, Toyota, Vauxhall Corsa, Ford Fiesta...

Large Rover, the style I hate cos it pretends to be a Jag in its styling. HUM! How in 18 years could students have got rich?

Here are my theories:

There are more people from other countries with a higher standard of living and think our higher-end saloons are cheap
There are more indulgent parents around (doubt it with crunchy credit cereal!!)
There are ppl up to something not-quite-kosher which is why they have money
They have more credit cards than sense
Car sales are completely crazy and offering these cars cheaply second-hand
They're all nicked!!

How on EARTH can people come here supposedly to study and drive massive expensive cars with ridiculous insurance premiums which guzzle petrol when students are meant to love the planet, hate capitalism and all that jazz?

My conclusion, the 20th century stereotype died with the Millenium, and despite what's happening we've gone back to the 80s, greed is good and might is right! Oh! Some of those old hippies will be screaming at the injustice of it all!!

Of course, as I said, even coming back as a postgrad, I still drive a small car with low insurance premium cos it's cheap, fast and easy to look after, as well as easy to park. The 2CV was excellent to park, with its huge steering wheel resembling that of an old Routemaster bus!! I was given a real blast from the past when I saw the steering wheel in the white Jag Mark II that was brought along by its owner to the SNECC traffic reunion day on Saturday - same idea!

Big Bonnie pussycat - as used by the Fuzz in 1960s

It's a wonder the Top Gear guys have never tackled this subject, time they did!!

When I'm rich and famous I'm going to completely forget I said this, and be driving a Maserati or a Bugatti Veyron. ;->

Big, bad and beautiful, the 1000bhp Bugatti

Maserati Grand Tourism 2008 - who remembers the Interceptor?

Right, now I've got that off my chest I can go to sleep - I thank you!

Spaekin Shetlan' - 1 of an occasional series

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Fri, 29 May 2009 22:36:00 +0000

Just joined the 'Shetland Appreciation Society' on Facebook and nearly laughed my socks aff!

Wirsit Drawers

Baa baa moorit yowe,
Haes du ony oo?
I wid laek some wirsit drawers,
I tink at dy'd look cool!

Fair Isle eans fur granny,
Lacy eans fur mum,
An strippit eans fur me ta wear
Ta cover up me bum!

some 'worsit draaers' (worsted knickers)

Oh jings, this is great - the Shetland version of 'Baa baa Black Sheep'! Now ye canna accuse them o bein politically incorrect! That jist maks me laugh and naturally start screivin in Doric. Moorit is the Norn word for black of a sheep's fleece I think. I ken that 'cat-mowgit' is a speckled or Jacob's Sheep.

Ok, so the NE Scots Doric version of it would be -

Baa baa blaek yowie,
Hiv ye ony oo?
Aye mannie, aye mannie,
Twa-three pokies fu'

Ane for the dominie,
Ane for the wife,
An ane for the wee loon
At bides doon i' close!

Not bad, and using the verses from the original, but apparently nay, the words I'm referring to were printed in 1744 in Tom Thumb's Pretty Song Book the earliest existing publication of children's rhymes (knew I should have put this on the Folk Blog!!) and the rhyme is sung to a 1761 variant of a French tune!!

Good old Wikipedia provided the Swedish version, which the Shetlandic version top seems to have been more likely inspired by!!

Bää bää, vita lamm

Har du någon ull?

Ja, ja kära barn, jag har säcken full

Heldagsrock åt far,; och söndagskjol åt mor; Och två par strumpor åt lille, lillebror

Translation:

Baa, baa white lamb

Have you any wool?

Yes, yes dear child, I have the whole bag full

A holiday-robe for father,; and a Sunday-skirt for mother; And two pairs of socks for the little, little brother.

And it's a different coloured sheep!! The PC Brigade wid hae a fit!

Apparently it was some 18th century comment on the wool tax which lasted until the 16th century. Very strange. Out of the mouths of babes?!

Anyway, after that diversion, back to Shetland speech - I LOVE it. No person, English or Scots could listen to Shetlanders converse in dialect and say its a dialect of either! Ha ha! No, it owes its roots to Old Norse - which also inspired Icelandic and Faroese. Of course, there's a good dose of Scots in it too, which was a result of the influence not only of the Scots earls (more on them later), but the fishermen and fish curers from the mainland.

Here's a very shortened version of a story I got from an interviewee there:

The background is that a local ne'er-do-well, named Dodo (usually a short form of George) has been ill and his neighbour, a devoutly religious man, Davie, sees him in the street and enquires both after his physical and spiritual health:

Davie: "But dost du ken far du's gaan?"
Dodo: "Ah weel, am aright, far ivver I go, I'll hae plenty freens!"

Uh-huh! So long as he didn't bump into any trows, giants or giantesses!

More on this later.

Meh!

Adrenaline Junkies

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Wed, 27 May 2009 14:27:00 +0000

Get the cycle maniacs!!!

Sooo impressed - found on BBC broadcaster, Tom Morton's blog. How to 'do' Edinburgh on a bike, and nae a BMX either! You really won't believe the stunts these guys get up to til you see them yourself. Help me! I HAVE to use this in a story!

Bye bye Shetland

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Sun, 10 May 2009 17:02:00 +0000

All over! Boo hoo! But between last nite and this morning heard Shetland's best storytellers, Lawrence Tulloch, Davy Cooper (me new facebook friend) and Elma Johnson. Trowies, giants, groilicks and selkies, all populated my new mental landscape o the islands. Made a great many new contacts and got invites back, including 2 Unst by super-teach Kate Coutts, she has really got a great thing going with her Metasaga. I shall have 2 do one 2 promote it on the folkblog.

Papa Stour sword dance was a revelation, uncanny similarity 2 Northumbrian rapper-dance. vid coming up on the folkblog. Folklorists and cultural historians coming 2 blows abt the description of it in 1788, pity they had 2 do that b4 lunch! I bailed and was able 2 enjoy tattie wedges and fish goujons in the Shetland Museum cafe- aka Hays Dock restaurant. yum! Just had fab time, but now must visit Jarlshof and Scatness next time. Farewell for noo, isle o the sword-hilt!

This is the Shetland Bus memorial which we saw in Scalloway - reminder of Shetland's part in the intelligence service during WWII.

And this is the SAME car reg I saw in 2007 - surely it belongs to a Guizer Jarl! Very good! Seen in King Harald Street, Lerwick.

I adore Shetland!!

Holm sweet holm

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Sat, 09 May 2009 16:42:00 +0000

Presentation over, all good. Back 4 a rest b4 a nite o Shetland storytelling.

Il fait pleut - again!

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Sat, 09 May 2009 06:59:00 +0000

Conf. Day 2. My turn @11.30am. Just bn a sharp shower. Had lovely meal out last nite wi buddy Lynne at Lerwick Hotel. Yakking 2 Hazel fae Orkney aboot Up-Helly-Aa.

Proof sun shines in Shetland

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Fri, 08 May 2009 12:44:00 +0000

Lovely sunny and free o wind. Just bn 2 Shetland Fudge Co and then Andersons 2 get Fair Isle hat.

Conference day 1- lunch

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Fri, 08 May 2009 12:04:00 +0000

In the Peerie Shop 4 lunch. my fave place in Lerwick. The prize for the worlds dullest presentation has already bn won by a French economist. The next person 2 use statistical equations will b asked 2 leave by tradesmen's exit! Meh!

Conference day 1

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Fri, 08 May 2009 07:35:00 +0000

Sitting in the auditorium @Shetland Museum waiting 4 conference 2 start. Tech team- me and Gideon r all sorted.

Blown aff the face o the earth

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Thu, 07 May 2009 16:55:00 +0000

Eshaness, west mainland of Shetland. Stopped here 4 lunch. Wind now gale force. Guide says now u know why no Shetlanders hae dandruff! He is Laurence Tulloch, storyteller, o North Yell. just stopping at Tangwick Haa museum.

Wet and windy in Shetland

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Thu, 07 May 2009 08:50:00 +0000

Just been to Clickimin Iron Age broch. found out there are two other earlier sites fae our resident archaeologists. (They had a fight about it!) Very wet and windy. Fresh though! It was sunny right until we got on the tour bus - huh!!

Arrival

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Thu, 07 May 2009 06:21:00 +0000

Arriving in Lerwick, it is 7.20am and it's a beautiful sunny day!!

Nice cabin mates - and a lovely rocking sleep. I love boats!

Running awa 2 sea

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Wed, 06 May 2009 16:21:00 +0000

Leaving Aberdeen to go to Shetland on the boat - first time! Sunny night, all looks well for a smooth journey. Will attempt to blog the entire time away at the Islands Identity conference at the Lerwick Museum.

Food and Flowers at the International Market

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 13:20:00 +0000

Fresh Veggies

Hooray! Today and tomorrow the international market is back in town!

Actually managed to get up before noon for a change and went to see if I could get some wooden flowers; the market has a stall from Holland that does them, and the same guys are there every year. My mum wanted some, so there it was, lovely wooden roses in all colours! Got some to match me bedroom too.

Wooden Roses

Then the Dutch Cheese guy made a joke that if I didn't have green flowers he would give me green cheese! (yes, you can get both there!) but I opted to buy smoked cheese instead. Blinkin cooncil peeps were hanging around checking people's scales etc - didn't think they needed six of them! What a cheek! What kind of welcome is that to these folk? Huh! Anyhoo, I was hungry, even though it was only 11am, so I got a crepe AND a roo-burger. Sat on the base of Rabbie's statue on Union Terrace and stuffed my face.

The Cheese Dude

Fans of the Aberdeen Tramps blog will be interested to hear that Ross, the homeless alkie mannie was standing there blethering with his fellow ootlins, wonder what they made of it all! I really wanted to laugh thinking that it was a great way for them to get free food! Shame, good job it is nice-ish weather.

So, left them - then went and bought MORE cheese from the Bexton Cheese ppl, tried sample of the Tomato and Basil, YUM! So two rounds of cheese, v bad considering I am supposed to be dieting again! All those ppl who gave me chocolates for my birthday, it's your fault! But I won't eat it all at once. They will go nice with my baked tatties.

Fresh Strawberries

The food stalls really are the best, some of the other stuff is not the greatest, though I was impressed by the Finland woollens stall, all the maist gorgeous Scandinavian jumpers and cardis you could wish for, as well as lots of cute furry toy huskies. And slippers! If there had been a price on the seal-fur slippers I would have had them! Good-oh! I was watching Ranulf Fiennes and two mad old journos do some sea-ice walking up at Baffin Island on the telly a few nights ago and though Ran-Dan-the-man just lives for snow and cold, one of his pals got frostbitten fingers in one day! I felt like mentioning that if they were wearing sealskin suits like the Inuit do, they would have nae problem. Ye never see or hear of THEM getting frostbite! Duh! When in Rome... or should I say, when in the Arctic, do as the Arctic folk do!

Finnish Furs

That done, I trailed all the way home again listening to the MP3 player - realising good tunes to get you walking quick are Chelsea Dagger and I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker (With Flowers In My Hair) (Fratellis and Sandi Thom of course). Long live the market, in the spirit of the Hanseatic traders of old!

Busy - no blogging time!

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 15:53:00 +0000

Oddly enough, after writing about seeing Patrick Wight a month ago, I had a dream in which he featured last night! It was all about car crashes. WEIRD.

So, latest, had head buried in laptop and books, writing about Shetland, reading about Shetland, what a great place! Will be reporting back from there on the Folklore Blog once I give my paper at the 'Taking Shetland Out of the Box:Island Cultures and Shetland Identity' conference there in May.

There are a great many fantastic Norse tales connected with Shetland, and I think I'll pop back here later and tell you one.

Also, note I've added Twitter to the Blog sidebar. This was all because I got hooked on the whole Original 106 Fugitive game which our local radio station was running, and you could follow him and the clues on Twitter. So, once it was revealed who he was, fwoar, what a dish! And I bet he has a much nicer voice when he isn't talking through a voice modulator like he did when he kept phoning up annoying the DJs. It was such a good game and loads of folk managed to win money. Am inspired! To write some fiction with an annoyingly charming criminal...

Dunno who the arm ornaments are, but dig the velvet smoking jacket, and the fetching flat cap, num num, man about town! Yoiks, what a hunk! Ye would struggle to want to arrest that! Mm mm! They'll need to get someone else if they play it again. He's far too cute to be forgotten!!

Right, that was just a random set of blethers, must go and do something constructive... toodle-pip!

Spotted! Patrice - Hairdresser to the Stars!!

noreply@blogger.com (Story Quine) — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 02:17:00 +0000

Weel, it wis his alter ego Patrick Wight, really, waakin up Union St, in civvies, lookin affa shifty! Maybe he's got a van roon the corner full o bodies!!

Wisna my fault, officer, honestly, they jist kept dying on ma!

Patrick Wight as Andy in One Day Removals

Yes, I saw Patrick Wight, star of Stirton Productions' The Planet and One Day Removals. The latter had a glittering launch at the Glasgow Film Fest in February and was sold out. It is the most hilarious film ever, yet has a few gentler moments where you totally sympathise with the hapless pair, Andy and Ronnie, the removal men - and yes, the silvery haired Aberdonian was lookin a bit hmm, maybe he wondered why a strange quine was lookin at him! Well, it was cos I recognised ye, min!

He was walking past the Peenj shoppie about 11.45am on 11th March, which was MY BIRTHDAY. I took that as a good omen.

If you don't already know about the best Doric black comedy in years, go to director, Mark Stirton's blog and order yourself a DVD, especially if you are from the Granite City yourself, ye'll get it - Glaswegians and Edinburgh peeps be warned, Andy doesn't have a kind word to say about either city!! ;->