The Platform Lovers – 8 -Untouchable!

The sound of the text arriving woke Monica at 7am.

Not that she was really sleeping; she had already been woken by the summer sun shining on the blinds at 6:30 and rolled over for a doze until the first alarm at 7:15.

7:15am, just enough time to get ready, carefully apply her make-up and walk to the train station. The 8:30 from Hamilton to Glasgow Central would get her there just before 9 and she’d pop in to Costa on Bothwell Street to pick a coffee before arriving at the office just before 9:30 as normal.

As always, she had showered the night before and had carefully chosen her outfit for today which was now hanging up on the outside of wardrobe.

She had wore a red dress for her presentation yesterday, so she had picked a black fitted dress from Karen Millen, business like and subtly feminine but dressed it up with bright red stiletto heels and a bag to match.

Today she would be wearing red underwear as always. Often she would by a four identical sets, balconette bras and a combination of thongs and cami-knickers for variety. She liked to have soft red satin or silk close to her skin.

She always spent extra time choosing her bras, always under-wired and padded to push up her breasts which she had always thought were a little on the small side, but at least they were still pert and she had never had any complaints.

She loved the colour red and made sure she wore it every day in some form or other. Not only did it make her feel attractive and sexy, but she felt that it empowered her, that it sent out some kind of primeval warning signal that would be subliminally detected by any interested males that she wasn’t a woman to be toyed with.

When she was a little girl, she had loved watching all those programmes with David Attenborough going round the world showing us how even in different habitats, the variety of creature had similar behaviours and bright red or yellow were always colours that these small creatures developed as a warning signal to larger creatures that the strength of their venom was disproportionate to their size and they were not some tasty morsel to be consumed.

She liked that, it boosted her self image; she liked to think that it projected confidence.

Besides, with her sallow skin and dark hair she knew that she looked great in red. Like that woman on the corn-flakes ads, attractive and alluring, hot but untouchable.

Untouchable? Absolutely!

She didn’t get to this stage in life to be available to any slobbering egotistical male with a hard-on who was interested in any attractive available woman. She was proud that she controlled her own destiny and did not need a man in her life. She would only allow anyone to touch who she chose to.

In her head, this was her world, she was the star, if you were lucky to have a supporting role then you would be at best a bit player otherwise you were an extra and not worth pursuing her interest.

Of course that didn’t include Veronica, her daughter. Veronica was the reason she got up and went to work in the morning, did the work that she did, paid for private boarding schools and music, dance and drama teachers.

She picked up her phone as soon as the alarm went off. Cancelled the buzzer and opened the text that had so rudely awakened her.

“Are you available for lunch today? Charles”

“Chaaarrrrles” she smiled as she said it out loud, imitating his pretend public school tones. She had already checked him out online and knew that his degree wasn’t from Glasgow but from the lesser Glasgow Caledonian University, hardly the choice of those who can afford private education.

He’s a fake and she knew it, but in her game you learn to keep your cards close to your chest and use the hidden knowledge to your own advantage. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer was the mantra she often repeated to herself when her moralistic conscience popped up on her shoulder every now and then.

The reply was easy, she had already predicted that he would make an approach.
“Good morning Charles, yes that would be lovely, but can we keep this discreet? Monica” She smiled at that, knowing full well that a married man on the make wouldn’t want anything other than discretion.

His reply came a few minutes later as she was heading downstairs to make coffee. “Of course we can be discreet, I totally understand your wishes, I’ll book somewhere away from the office for lunch and send you the details later, Charles”

She almost laughed at this “he’ll understand my wishes?”

Never kid a kidder Charles; you would think at his age that he would know better. He was obviously used to dealing with young girls blinded by his flash image or more vulnerable women not as wise to his deceit.

She put the phone down for a few moments. Stirring her coffee and staring out the window considering her next move. Keeping his interest but not coming on too strong.

“Perfect, I’m free any time between 12 and 2, x”

She had some inner conflict about that kiss, should she have sent it or not?

Was it too soon to show any romantic interest, would that be sending out the wrong signal?

She rationalised that it was the correct approach, this is what Charles wanted, this is what her client paid for, she just didn’t want to be too open too soon. She had to make him work for it, the more he worked, the more evidence they collected.

The reply from Charles was almost instantaneous “X”

She smiled, closed the text and called Alex her back-up man, let him know that they were go and that she would pass on the details after Charles had arranged lunch.

Alex put the phone down, picked up his razor from the wash-hand basin and continued shaving his head, whistling through his teeth some drill tune that he had long since forgotten the name of.

It was a very long time since he had completed his basic training.

Cruising – You Can’t Go Back!

Back again ..

Sitting at my desk on a grey Glasgow Monday, looking out my window over Blytheswood Square as dark clouds envelop the city, it’s not raining yet, but it’s on its way.

?The Deacon Blue song Raintown is playing in my head ..

“It’s a rain dirt town job hurts but it don’t pay”

I’m sitting here wishing that I was back cruising the Med, visiting interesting places and lying in the sun all day.

Let me start with .. Royal Caribean cruises are fantastic .. Full stop!

My 3 kids ( 24, 22 and 15) and I had the most amazing time, we were looked after from start to finish, fantastic food, all the cocktails or beers you ever imagined and fabulous entertainment.

But you could get all that with a 5 star hotel too?

The difference is, that you don’t get to see all the exotic places that you only ever heard of in history books or glossy magazines.

Rome, Sicily, Athens, Kusidasi, Ephesus, Crete.

All those places from the ancient world steeped in history and legend, wandering round crowded ancient streets, The Vatican, Colliseum, Pantheon, The Acropolis, Temple of Zeus far too many to name.

Then back onto your 5 star haven, watching the ship depart, lying in the sun with the waiter bringing cocktails .. magic.

Dressing up for silver service 4-course dinners, my son in I wearing hired tuxedos for the formal nights.

The entertainment at night was first class, everything from salsa dancing, nightclubs, piano bars and broadway shows .. then heading to the all night cafe and filling up on pizza slices .. cos we were somehow hungry!!

I’ve never had all of that in any 5 star hotel I’ve ever been to.

The only downside to the holiday … No freely available internet access, it was expensive and only available in certain areas.

But .. that turned out to be a good thing too as it meant my kids and I spent time together rather than them disappearing to chat with their friends on messenger or facebook etc.

The other downside .. we are now spoiled for any hotel based holiday .. it just wouldn’t be the same.

As we visitied the various ports along the way, seeing other cruise lines and speaking to a few travellers about their experiences, Royal Caribean are definitely the best, with the most modern ships and best service.

I am totally delighted with my holiday experience and cannot fault it in the slightest.

Right, serious diet starts today .. that weight I lost beforehand has all reappeared .. somehow!! 🙂

Birth, Pain, Joy and Pride for 24 Years!

What were you doing 24 years ago today?


I know exactly what I was doing that day. It’s a day burned into my memories that I will never forget.

It was a gloriously sunny Tuesday and Alison ( my ex-wife) woke me up at 2am to tell me that her waters had broken, even although it was 2 weeks earlier than expected.

I’d heard her get up about 1am and eating rice-crispies and ice-cream which was her craving at the time.

Or maybe she just said that! 🙂

Anyhoo, she woke me at 2 to tell me that her waters had broken, so we called the hospital for advice.

It’s not like the movies you know, there was no mad rush across town with her legs sticking out the back window and cries of “get hot water and towels”.

We were actually quite calm and the hospital told her to relax, have a bath and came over when the contractions started.

At 5:30am we were in Stobhill Maternity Hospital, Alison was happy to walk, but the plonked her into a wheelchair and wheeled her off for a good look-see.

It was a bright summers morning like today, I spent the next 40 minutes looking out of the window watching the sun burn the mist of the Campsie Hills while they checked Alison over and made sure teh baby was okay.

The next 7 hours until Steven was born at 12:30pm were stressful and joyful.

Alison was insistent that she ddn’t want an anaesthetic and she certainly didn’t want an epidural. She wanted to be in control of the birth and to feel the pain, like some kind of idealistic earth mother.

The contractiions got closer and closer and when she was dilated to 10cm they whipped her into the maternity ward, on the bed, feet in stirrups and the full medical team in and out every 5 minutes until the birth was almost imminent.

As the contractions got closer, all that idealism went out the window and she was breathing the pain-relieving mixture of gas and air with increasing frequency.

That last 30 minutes was harrowing, they could see the head, but she couldn’t push, the babies heart-beat was increasing and they were worried about his oxygen content being reduced with the possibility of resulting brain damage.

Despite the pain-relief, Alison was in agony, I was holding her hand and smiling, telling her that everything would be okay.

But I felt useless, impotent, all that pre-natal stuff, going to classes about breathing etc is all bullshit.

When it comes right down to it, its all down to the woman to push, the male role was 9 months ago and at this time is purely for emotional support.

The emergency team arrived and the doctors and mid-wives were around us, debating if they were going to have to do an emergency ceaserian?

Don’t mind us we thought .. we”re just the patients..

They started to wheel more equipment into the room, God knows what but an alternative approach was imminent.

Over the next 5 minutes, she was contracting almost constantly. I held her and hand and told her to push, But when there was a gap between the reactions, I had to turn away because I had tears in my eyes and I couldn’t bear to see her suffer.

Fortunately, just as they were going to take her to take her to the operating theatre, my sons head appeared.

A few minutes later, they were pulling him out by the shoulders and lifting hiim into Alisons arms. This little bundle of skin and bone covered in blood and mucus and God kows what.

Within moments all of the pain was forgotten, we were smiling and crying, holding each other as they checked him over and told us that we had a perfect healthy baby boy.

Then they asked me if I’d like to cut the cord, which I’m proud to say I’ve done for all 3 of my babies.

A few minutes later, they had the baby cleaned up and wrapped in clean towels. The doctors were making sure that Alison was okay, adding in a few stitches were she had been torn in the most delicate of places.

I took Steven, even although I didn’t even know his name then and walked around the maternity ward with the biggest grin on my face.

Then I found the phone box, because no-one had mobile phones back then and called my mum and Alisons mum and told them our good news.

I cried that day like I had never cried before, a combination of joy and relief, the most euphoric feelings.

24 years ago, and that wee bundle of joy is now 6 foot 2, handsome, intelligent and qualifed in microbiology.

Today he is driving down to Manchester for a job interview in medical sales support.

24 years and I still worry about him, will it ever stop, probably not. but neither will the joy and my pride.

Do you think that you’re parents ever stop worrying about you?

Of course the don’t. you’re their pride and joy. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, what you’ve achieved or failed, parental love is unlimited and without conditions.

So go and appreciate your parents, while they are here. The clock is ticking you know.

Tonight, I’m taking my dad and all 3 of my kids are going out for dinner .. having wrote this, feeling a bit emoptional as I did, I’m now thinking that perhaps I should invite Alison along too .. if it wasn’t for her, then I wouldn’t have my babies and life wouldn’t be so good.

Tomorrow, we’re off on holiday, Rome for a couple of days and then cruising the Mediterranean for a week visting Crete, Sicily, Turkey and Athens.

My son and I are sharing a balcony cabin, my 2 girls are in the cabin next door..

Maybe someday they will read this and know how proud I am of all 3 of them and how much they mean to me.


For Lovers? – 22 – Football and Families.

Hello to you!

A new part of my For Lovers story … this part from the female point of view is her telling her friend about the first time he has met her kids and the reassessing the relationship and fits in between ..

Him telling his mate about meeting the boys


Him assessing the relationship and where he wants it to go

Hope you like ..


22 – Football and Families?

So how did it go then?

I had stopped in at Lynn for a coffee and a chat since I knew that Alan would have the boys at football tonight.

Their team had disgraced itself by not paying its taxes and was forced into liquidation then re-launched as a phoenix club and was now languishing somewhere in the bottom division but you couldn’t fault their fans loyalty, turning up in all weathers to show their support.

Lynn reckoned that this was male bonding at its best and it appeared to work as Alan and the boys were very close. She also thought that he used it just to get out the house for a few hours.

Particularly when he would go on those cold winters nights without the boys. A few beers with his mates and a proper sing-song without having to worry about delicate young ears. Not that they hadn’t heard it all before particularly on those drunker nights when their team had won the league which fortunately wasn’t too often.

“It went better than I expected, the boys were well behaved apart from the odd moment and we all had a good chat together.”

That was mainly true. Well it was true except that the boys had been squabbling then screaming at each other until I told them to go to their rooms.

“Did the boys like him?”

“I think Max did as they were talking about football but I don’t think David was impressed when he said that he was a Celtic fan.”

“Oh no, tell me that he’s not a Celtic fan. Alan will love that!”

“I’m sure he will, particularly as he’s a season ticket holder and he takes his son to most games. He’s even offered to take me along to a match.”

“You’re not seriously thinking about going, are you?”

“Well I used to like Celtic when I was growing up and went to a Catholic school.”

”Get out my house right now!!” She laughed but in different days that might not have been the case. People around these parts really took that deadly seriously back then in the dark days where even green traffic lights were smashed in certain parts of deepest darkest Lanarkshire.

Can you imagine how ridiculous that would be nowadays?

Lynn and Alan were brought up in the local mining community but have both moved on in life and have done fairly well for themselves.

In years gone by this community was staunchly Protestant and people from the other side of that religious divide were treated with disdain at best and hatred at worst.

Fortunately in today’s more enlightened world, someone’s religious background no longer precludes them from getting a job or a home. Well not in my world although her comments indicate that these bigoted thoughts are deep rooted and stem from behaviour learned in childhood.

”I’m definitely going now!” I laughed although I was partly serious. The idea was definitely there and I was beginning to look forward to it.

“You should take Max along with you then. Even although he’s not a fan I’m sure he would enjoy the experience.”

“Good idea Lynn. I think he would too. Even although his dad supported Falkirk and David does too I think he would enjoy himself.”

“Did everything else go well apart from that?”

”Yes, I’m sure it did apart from the boys acting up a little after dinner. I had to send Jamie to his room at one point for being bad tempered and hitting Max.”

”I wouldn’t worry about that; he’s a dad so I’m sure he has saw all that kind if childish behaviour before.” Good for you Lynn, always the voice of reason.

“Yes, he has 3 kids but his elder 2 have left home and his youngest is 6 months elder than David. So I’m sure he’s saw it all before, just not recently as his kids seem to be angels in comparison.”

”Angels? Yeah right. I’m sure they have their moments?”

“I’m sure they do too, but they are just at a different stage and the elder 2 are obviously independent and he only sees them when they need something, new tyres for their cars or help when their cash has ran out before pay day”

”Oh well, at least he’s a good dad and there for them. Lots if dads aren’t.”

Lynn made a valid point, bringing families together isn’t easy but if he didn’t care for his kids then he wouldn’t be the type of man that I’d be interested in.

“Yes he is and I’m sure he enjoyed meeting the boys. He even had a kick-about with Max.” They did seem to have good fun and Max said later that he had enjoyed having someone to play football with as the other boys are never interested in playing.

What I didn’t tell Lynn was that Jamie had been acting up after I refused to let his friend Darren stay for dinner as I wanted this to be a family only meal. He had stormed off to his room, slamming the door in a temper.

I had just done the introductions, the kids had said hello and we were sitting at the kitchen table for a cup of tea waiting on the roast to cook when Jamie through his tantrum. I was getting up to give Jamie a piece of my mind until he held my hand and quietly said “Leave it, you’ll only make things worse and cause resentment.”

Very wise I thought but noted that I’d have a quiet word with Jamie later.

It did make me wonder and later that night I asked myself what would I do if the situation was reversed? If my kids were growing up and becoming more independent, then why would I want to get involved with a widower with 3 young kids who live with him full time? Where it’s often difficult to get a baby-sitter and their free time to go out and do things together is limited because they don’t have an ex-partner to share the load.

Would I want to have a relationship like that?

If I’m honest with myself, despite the fact that we get on so well, have great fun, physical attraction, a fantastic sex life, then I don’t think it would be enough, I don’t think I’d be ready to play mum to someone else’s kids.

I wouldn’t want that, so I’m surprised that he can put up with it.

So although, I love what we have together, that we have great fun together, at the end of the day, when go back to our separate houses and don’t see each other until the following week it wouldn’t be enough for me.

I’d want someone who is more available and I can see any night of the week that we are both free.

But for now, what else can I do?

I appreciate him being there for me and will just enjoy our time together and wait and see how things develop.

T In The Park Residents!!

Sooo … how was T In The Park?

Fan-add your explitive of choice -tastic!!

T In The Park 2013 was the most amazing experience.

Just home and feeling so chilled out that I can’t wait to do it all again!

4 days in the Scottish sunshine, can you believe that . no rain for 4 days?

I’m golden brown and smiling like a trippy hippy.

My only disappointment was it took me all these years to go to a music festival.

Right .. serious time.

The pod we booked was shit and I mean shit, a glorified dog-kennel. Much smaller than it looked on the web, we should have checked the measurements. But lesson learned, we won’t be doing that again.

To be fair, the pod staff were nice, lots of free tea and coffee, it was just that we couldn’t stand up in the place and that the beds were tiny.

There were lots of people who were happy with that set up, probably still good value for money and far superior to the tented experience I’ll describe below plus having access to all of the facilties of The Residence.

Fortunately, as we arrived on Thursday night ahead of the curve, we were able to upgrade to a huge Belle Tent with proper beds, Egyptian sheets and normal electrical plugs, which wasn’t much use to us as we hadn’t brought anything, but those nice people at Yurtel supplied us with a kettle.

Yurtel website

The Residence .. as the posh camping area is known .. is a fantasticlly wonderful, chilled out place with most imporantly lots of space to lie around sunbathing in the grass listening to the DJ mixing the tunes.

All the basics were covered, proper toilets and showers, no queues and great food at prices lower than the main arena.

In addition to the above, purchasing a ticket to The Residence gives you access to the VIP area at the far end of the main arena near the main stage with its proper loos, decent food and sheltered grassy area away from the mad crowds outside.

By contrast, my friends son was staying in the camping site which looked like a Cambodian Refugee Tent Village only worse.

At first it looked fine, then as more people arrived there was no space between the tents, overlapping guy-ropes etc.

Thats okay, if you’re 20 something and don’t care .. until someone steals your sleeping bag while you are in the main arena and later while you are sleeping on the ground, you are rudely awakened by someone pissing on your tent.

But worse, the toilet and shower facilities were shocking, huge queues to go in a smelly box .. lets not go there.

If you ever go … Reside .. do not camp.

Oh yeah .. there was a lot of music playing too .. see the link in my previous blog. but my personal highlights are …

Friday .. the show was opened by The Proclaimers .. the proverbial Scottish band often wheeled out for these occasions such as football or rugby cup-finals, anything where you want the crowd fiured up behind the team … but you know what .. these guys havne’t lasted the dinstance for nothing. They know how to get a crowd going and having not heard it for a long while Sunshine on Leith brought a tear to this old somewhat cynical eye.

“Your beauty and kindness, made tears clear my blindess
While I’m worth my room on this earth, I will be with you”

Quickly followed by Texas doing lots of hits and plugging the nerw album.

Emili Sandie, how many singles must have that girl have off her album? Go buy it. She can sing, play and looks beautiful.

Staeve Mason at the smaller Transmission stage was impressive, will probably buy his album. Or at least give it a listen on iTunes and then decide.

The closing acts all simulteneously were Mumford and Sons, CAlvin Harris and Kraftwerk. My choice was Kraftwerk but was outnumbered!

Calvin Harris .. light show. .. huge bass .. could have been a club anywhere .. personally I found it boring and full of neds/yobs/chavs .. but they seemd to enjoy it .. so we left them to it.

Mumford and sons .. talented musicians but far too same-ish for me. But a few great songs in there that had the crowd jumping.

Guess how drunk I was on the way home … 3/10 .. just chilled was a good day.

Saturday .. lay iun the sun .. first act James Arthur from the X-Factor on at 1ish. So we skipped that.

The Fratellis another fine Scottish band got the crowd going, all my favourites including Whislte For The Choir and Chelsea Dagger.

Then Deacon Blue .. too many hits to list here, but my favoruites were Loaded, Fergus Played The Blues and Dignity, .. Rikki Ross made a point of thanking the young crowd for being so welcoming, but in reality, the youngsters were down the front, the oldies ( like me) were up the back and we sang every word. Even the yougsters beside us were singing and dancing along, so many forgotten hits from these Scottish Legends.

Which reminds me …. Deacon Blue are playing The Hydro when it opens soon .. they just put their tickets right up my priority list.

If you happened to be Scottish and were around in the 80s for their Raintown album .. go get them!

The Lumineers – a band I’d never heard before .. chilled proper musicans and a cool experssive lead singer, I’m downloading their album later.

Paloma Faith .. cool lady, saw her before, she’s whacky but the girl is talented.

The Script .. were never favourites, I had thought they were over hyped and wondered what all the fuss was about. But I was wrong, Danny can rock a crowd, he’s a mix between the Robbie Williams and Bono. Serious, fun, audacious and completely self assured. When he asked for some girl with an ex-boyfriend to pass him their phone then called the guy and sang to him .. some song about not needing you and having moved on … fantastic .. he had the crowd going wild. Especially the women but thats not hard with his Celtic good looks.

Headline time .. the crowd waited .. and waited .. Rhianna was due anytime .. anytime.

And was it worth the wait .. Was it feck!

She lip-synched or at least as the mike was live she appeared to be singing over her own vocals on backing track. Okay so we get that it can be hard to sing in tune while your dancing but you were only shaking your ass and every other person was doing it.

The first 40 minutes were boring, Rhianna being overtly sexual, pleasing the wee girls next to me with her childish lyrics about licking the cream of the lollipop .. but simultenously the least sexy women in the venue.

Sexy isn’t being overt .. its being discreet, mysterious, anticipating .. she has a lot to learn including how to sing properly.

To be fair .. the last 30 minutes of her singles had the place jumping.

If you don’t want to dance to We Found Love in a Hopeless Place .. then check your pulse and call a paramedic.

Saturday was a fab day .. came home chilled, tired and was out like a light. Drunk factor 3/10 again.

Sunday .. for me Sunday was always going to be the biggie based on the line-up and it didn’t disappoint.

The day start of with the soul and funk legends that are Earth Wid and Fire .. 3 of the original members who have been together playing for 41 years and wow can they still play some grooves. Lead vocalist Maurice White still has a wonderful gravelly soul voice which has probably only got better with time.

We got there slightly late, quite a big turn-out for them so were at the back, dancing aroudn with a mix of oldies and youngsters alll having a ball and singing along with all the hits. Maurice had the crowd going, just a favbulous feel good experience and was delighted to hear September .. it made my day.

We sat in the grass at the back of the huge crowd for Ocean Colour Scene, Rita Ora and Two Door Cinema club,.

Ocean Colour Scene, 25 years on the go, know how to rock a stadium.
Rita Ora, still can’t in awe that she’s attained fame so soon, grateful to be here and put on a show.
Two door Cinema Club. I only knew one of their songs, but found their songs too similar and written ot a formula.

Then it was time to head down to King Tuts Wah-Wah Hut for the act I was probably looking forward to most of all. Johhny Marr, guitarist with The Smiths, The The, Electronic, The Cribs, Johnny Marr And The Healers.

He’s on his own now, but this man has played guitar r produced too many songs to list, personal higlights from last night include, Getting Away With It, Stop Me, Big-Mouth Strikes Again, There is A Light That Never Goes Out, How Soon is Now

The crowd singing along to the latter song there … was a near religous expoerience.

“I am human and I need to be loved
just like everybody else does”

Love it.

Then back to the main arena for the closing headliners .. Stereophoinics and The Killers.

Steophonics were fab, I’ve saw them a few times, maybe to many times, but they had the huge crowd singing along with Have A Nice Day and up on their feet dancing for my favourite of theirs Dakota.

The closing act The Killers … hhhmmm fantastic and disappointing. I I saw them twice last year as noted in this blog at the time. both time then they were fantastic .. but this time they seemed to play a few fillers which had the crowd slump a little.

Loved their slight acoustic version of Human before it came back and hit us full on and the crowd were on their feet.

All the hits were there for the big finish and e went home smiling .. drunk factor .. 0/10 .. I was driving.

Fortunately the other benefit of being at The Residence is you have a separate exit and on the motorway in 5 minutes and back home in under an hour.

Sooo .. in summary .. I had a wonderful chilled-out time, great food, just the right amount of booze, dancing and singing to lots of my favouite music.

if you are 40+ and thought that music festivals were for youngsters.

Sure they are .. but they are for us oldies too .. so get out there and do it.

But book The Residence and do it in style!

See you there next year!

The 21st Night Of September

What are You doing this weekend?

Wanna bet that it’s not as good as mine!!

I’m going to my first ever music festival, the 20th anniversary of T In The Park and now that its finally arrived, I can’t wait!

I finish work at 5:30 tonight and heading straight up to my posh pod for some glamping … None of that lying in a field with a bunch of 20 year olds out their heads on god knows what for me!

Line up below …

Gomg to go and see ..

Killers, Stereophonics, Mumford And sons, Courteneers, Emeli Sandie, Kraftwerk, Johnny Marr, Proclaimers, Deacon Blue, . amongst many others!!

I’m particularly looking forward to seeing those oldies Earth Wind And Fire ..

“Do you remember, the 21st night in September?”

The party starts with a BBQ at 7 tonight… looking forward to going on the big wheel .. and dancing my socks off!!

Sing with me …………………..

Do you remember, the 21st night in September?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders
While chasing the clouds away

Our hearts were ringing In the key that our souls were singing.
As we danced in the night,
Remember how the stars stole the night away

Ba de ya – say do you remember
Ba de ya – dancing in september
Ba de ya – never was a cloudy day

Canny wait ..

The Platform Lovers – 7 – Coffee?

She had cried most of the night, tried to sleep then rolled over and started crying again.

She knew that she’d been stupid and not just once, just how stupid can one girl be?

She was agonising, telling herself that at her age she should know better, but she thought she was past that stage and that it wouldn’t happen for her even if she had tried.

It had only been once, once for fucks sake.

She tells herself that isn’t exactly true. They’d only had unprotected sex on one occasion but they had managed to do it twice before he called a cab and headed for home.

This had been a one-off, drunken night months after their affair had ended. He’d been so careful before then, making sure that he wore condoms and even washing himself before he made his excuses to leave her and go back to his wife.

How degrading was that?

Washing himself after making love to her, like she was some piece of meat that he had just met, even although they had been seeing each other for months.

She hated him for that, hated the fact that she had allowed herself to become involved with a married man, even although he had never lied to her or made any false promises.

Actually, that’s not true.

He had lied to her, he’d told her that he was separated, but he and his wife were living in the same house because it wasn’t selling in the current market but they were living separate lives.

Yes, they were living separate life’s, but just because their relationship was loveless doesn’t mean they were actually separated. There had been no effort to go through a legal process, no effort to break-up or change the status quo.

She knew it at the time, she had been fooling herself and should have spotted the signs sooner than she had.
If he was genuinely separated then why did he never stay the night with her? Why couldn’t they go away for the weekend? Why the hell was he washing his cock every time they had sex?

Cleanliness? Yeah right! The lying cheating bastard.

She felt that she was a second-class citizen in his world. He was happy to be with her when it suited him, but as soon as his wife expected him to be there then she was dropped like last nights underwear.

Eventually it had been too much to bear; she couldn’t stand the lies and wasting her life waiting for him to be able to escape for a few hours.

She had to get out of it, being part of the affair was breaking her own moral standards and the internal conflict was tearing her apart.

She had missed him, ached for him. She’d spent nights on her own, crying on the phone to her friends, needing to open up then feeling that she was boring them senseless with the same story going round in loops for hours at a time.

Of course they were happy to listen, that’s what friends are for, there were no moral judgements, we have all made mistakes, telling her that she was better off out of it and better to be alone than unhappy.

All the usual clichés that didn’t help in the slightest.

In the days after the break-up, he had called her and promised her that he would leave, which she didn’t believe. She didn’t want to be anyone’s escape mechanism. So she told him that didn’t want him leaving his wife to be with her.

She had agonised on this and told him that she didn’t want him running to her, then running away from her as soon as he realised that the grass isn’t always greener.

He had begged and pleaded and asked what he had to do to make her believe him.

So she told him that he should leave his wife because that relationship is dead and after he has left and is living on his own then to get in touch and they could possibly give it another go if they were both free and available.

But in the meantime she wanted no further contact from him.

When she told her friends that about this, they had been supportive and almost proud of her. Some of them had been in similar situations since their own marriage break-ups, but had weakened and then been caught in a yo-yo situation never knowing quite were they stood and inevitably getting hurt in the process.

This made her even more determined that she wouldn’t be someone else’s crutch and that she would see it through were her other friends had weakened.
It got easier as the weeks went past, her friends had laughed when she told them about hiding in the bedroom scared to move when he had turned up at her door one morning unexpectedly, obviously on his way to work knowing that she wouldn’t have left yet.

At times like these, you need your friends, it’s something that you realise in life, that relationships will come and go but good friends are there forever.

But now lying in the darkness, she wondered what they would think of this new dilemma.

She had told them about meeting John on the train home after the concert, both of them full of the joys having saw two of their favourite bands at the SEC. Journey, Foreigner and STYX, although neither of them were really interested in STYX.

A love of music was something that they both had in common and if she was honest with herself, the thought had crossed her mind that she might bump into him at the concert but she hadn’t expected to walk on to the east-bound platform and find him standing there.

She wasn’t quite prepared for that, but she was pleased to see him they chatted like old friends. They were old friends. It had been months since they saw each other and although there were no hello-kisses she could still feel the attraction between them.

The train arrived and seemed to take no time to get from the Exhibition Centre through Glasgow Central on to Cambuslang. They had chatted, laughed and even agreed that the finale had been worth waiting for and who knows when they’d get to see these aging rock heroes again.

At Cambuslang, they walked up the ramp to the ticket office where they would normally take their separate exits to walk their short journeys home.

In the not-so-distant past on their journey home from work, they would kiss and go their separate ways, having done all their talking on the train. But tonight, the night seemed to young to go home.

So they stood inside the exit chatting, close but no physical contact. She could feel his presence around her. Her senses were heightened and it was as if she expected his arms around her, to hold her and tell her that he missed her.

She had to tell herself that she didn’t want that, that anything between them was over.

A few minutes later, the station-master asked them if they would mind moving outside as the last train had gone and the station was being closed for the night.

So why did she find herself asking him if he wanted a coffee?

The Platform Lovers – 6 – The Thin Pink Line

Nervous indecision, guilt, anxiety, delight, fear of the future, fear of the consequences of his indiscretion.

All of the above?

John had been unable to sleep since he received the text last night. He could tell that Carol Ann was sleeping beside him, her breathing slow and quiet, the peaceful sleep of those who have nothing to hide.

His reassurances had obviously worked, just as well he had bought the second pay-as-you go mobile or he really would be in deep shit by now.

He corrects himself, he is still in deep shit. But at least now he has a choice and he has some control over the outcome. If Carol Ann had read the contents of that text then she would have dropped him in a second.

He had smiled when he saw the text waiting for him, he always smiled when there was a text waiting for him. She was the only person that knew this number. During the day at work he sat there with the volume off, placing the phone on top of his pc so that the vibration reverberated against the hollowness of the box.

But at home, it was on silent, ringer off, vibration off. The phone was then placed in his secret hidey-holes where his wife would never look, high up above the kitchen units or alternatively above the vanity units in the little used family bathroom. Where he had his collection of Q Magazines waiting and would spent time reading while he did his business and sent a few texts. Easy discreet access was the key.

He was confident that there was no reason for her to look in these places. He could always access the phone easily, either going to the loo or making her tea and toast in the morning before he went to work and she left an hour later.

This was a routine that he followed every day without fail. The consequences were too serious to get it wrong.

At first the text seemed ordinary, nothing obvious to worry about.

“Can you have a look at this pic and tell me if you see what I see? x”

He smiled and wondered what it was, she often sent him pics of her dog or from the internet, usually daft uplifting thoughts, that kind of bored him in their predictability but pleased him that she thought of him like that. That somehow she was thinking of him just as much as he was thinking of her even although he was trapped in a relationship with another woman.

At first he struggled to make out what the image was, the screen was nearly all grey with some white plastic device and a small grey screen containing one thick pink line and one extremely faint pink line, little more than a few dots on his screen.

Then he recognised it, every nerve firing and silent words falling from his mouth.

“Fuck! . Fuck, Fucking Fuck! Jesus, Fucking Fuck!”

He stared at it, zoomed it in. The line, if it was actually a line, was extremely faint against the grey backdrop. But there was definitely pink there.

“I thought you were making tea?” His wife calls, sounding much nearer than the lounge.

He quickly closes the phone and sticks it in his pocket, reaching for a couple of mugs and placing them on the worktop and leaning against it doing his best impression of looking nonchalant.

“I was just waiting on the kettle to boil” He replies just as she comes through the door.

“But you haven’t even put it on yet”

“Oh sorry honey, I thought I had, you know what I’m like nowadays!” He smiles at her, hoping that she buys the excuse.

“Yes, you’re definitely getting worse since you hit the big 5-oh!” She smiles at him and turns the kettle on then kisses him gently on the cheek.

He pulls her towards him, holding her tightly.

“I’m sorry” he whispers “I’m really sorry.”

And on this occasion he actually means it.

The Platform Lovers – 5 – Two Moments

I walked past him today, the tall straight-laced never smiling brief-case man.

You know that way when you see someone every day, well every working day as we get the same train every morning, and I mean every morning.

How sad is that?

You know that they recognise you, because you recognise them, sometimes you say hello, or nod an acknowledgement.

Or sometimes you don’t and you wonder why. You question yourself, is it me? Or is it them? Am I unattractive, dull and uninteresting?


So it must be them and they have communication skills as good as my micro-wave. But even that annoying fucker bleeps until you acknowledge it.

I’ve made this train journey most days for almost 10 years and for all of that time, brief-case man has always been there. A constant in my life that I know absolutely nothing about, apart from the fact that he never smiles and has two young kids that seem to piss him off.

Of course he recognises me as much as I recognise him; it’s not as if I change my hair or clothing, just the usual jeans, boots and casual jacket. My working uniform of choice.

I had spotted him in the distance. I was walking down the hill to the station and he was walking up. Our paths were bound to cross on the narrow pavement squeezed between the small sandstone garden walls and the street full of parked cars whose owners had disappeared on the earlier trains.

I could tell that he had seen me too; there was a brief moment of eye contact before he started to stare straight ahead. Now that he’s spotted me, it was as if he was deliberately avoiding eye contact, I wonder why?

The distance between us shortens, 30 yards and closing, he’s still staring straight ahead.

I’m looking ahead, not directly at him, more at some point in the distance over his head and definitely not making eye contact.

But the thought crosses my mind, why are you walking up the hill today?

Have you forgotten something?

Maybe left the iron on?

He’s 10 yards away; we’re now on level ground it’s difficult to look anywhere else except right at him. But even without making eye contact I can still make observations, He really is a tall man, bolt upright and far too scrawny for his height.

He’s now 5 yards away, I prepare myself to make some acknowledgement, to give a nod of recognition or say good morning and keep walking.

But the bastard beats me to it!

Without so much as a word of warning, he turns his head to the left and starts pretending that he’s looking over the small sandstone wall at some very fascinating imaginary feature which suddenly caught his eye in the grassy garden next to us.

Bastard! J

I kick myself and wish that I’d spotted that imaginary feature first!

A few seconds later, we pass each other, both turning our shoulders slightly, giving each other room to pass then we continue on our separate paths never to speak. Well maybe not today but there’s a lot of story to be told yet and I’m still making it up!

At the station five minutes later, they are both there, rock-chic and rock-guy, standing at the top of the platform away from the crowd and further along the platform than the carriages ever stop.

They obviously want their privacy and even at this distance they are both very animated in their discussion, hands gesticulating with every comment and counter-comment and foil and parry of their somewhat heated discussion.

This is the first time I’ve saw him in over a month but she’s been here every day. In the first week she had looked for him. I could tell that she had been hoping he would arrive but not now, now she had accepted that he wouldn’t be there and moved on with her life.

But today, he has his hands up in protest as she berates him, but his gesture does not stop the torrent coming from deep inside her. He has obviously said something inflammatory which has ignited some hidden blue touch paper inside her and the resulting explosion I would not wish upon my worst enemy.

Heads are now turning, people who either hadn’t noticed them previously or were ignoring the animated scene are now staring along the platform even although their train is due to arrive from the other direction.

“Of course it’s fucking yours!” She screams at him.


This is part 5 of The Platform Lovers for part 1 click here.

Lady Helen, Dad And Burt Bacharach!

Saturday, I took my dad for dinner and a few drinks in Edinburgh then to see Burt Bacharach at the Usher hall.

Let me say this .. FANTASTIC!!

So many songs of my lifetime that I had forgotten he wrote. Check out the setlist here.

One of the vocalists,  the gorgeous Josie James sang Anyone Who Had A Heart .. my mums favourite, me and my dad both had a tear in our eyes.

But …. guess what ….

I met a lady on Saturday night.

I mean a proper lady.

Helen, very petite, dancer petite, with her white blonde hair and sparkley blue eyes.

She came in on her own and sat next to my dad and I, in the front row of the Grand Circle at the Burt Bacharach concert.

She moved very graceefully in her ballet slippers, wearing a silk coat, one of those oriental prints, not fashionable but suited her.

Before the concert she was telling us about having seen Burt every time he plays Glasgow or Edinburgh because he was her husbands favourite.

Then she sat there and cried some happy tears, this beautiful spritely 80 year old lady.

She and my dad got on like a house on fire ..and quietly sang every word as predicted .. the singing not the quietly!

After the concert we walked Helen outside where her cab was waiting and she disappeared into the night.

But for a couple of hours, Helen, Dad, Burt and I had a real ball.

And yes there were a few tears!!

Last night, sat in on my own and played piano and watched Glastonbury!!

The Rolling Stones, immense as usual, how much do I want them to tour again?

By chance, earlier, I had heard Alicia Keyes play Wild Horses. so I taught myself it on piano.

What a fantastic song, but the Stones’s original is much much better!