Why are Aberdonians so apathetic about culture? If only we could be bothered to find out.

Ron Cluny, Council Spokesman. There are three beliefs which are central to every true Aberdonian’s being: that the Dons are a great football team, that the buttery is a culinary delight to match anything produced in a Parisian patisserie, and that Aberdeen is better than Dundee.  17 years without a trophy at Pittodrie and Terry Wogan’s notorious on-air attack upon our iconic savoury treat have already done immeasurable harm to the Aberdonian psyche.  But now we face the greatest challenge ever mounted to our collective self-esteem, with the annoncement that, while we did not make the final shortlist of four for the UK City of Culture 2017, Dundee did.

Citizens should be assured that in these darkest of times, your local authority will offer clear headed leadership.  This is certainly not a time to panic, as I said to my assistant immediately after the result was announced, whilst running round the office swearing, screaming and putting my foot through a succession of filing cabinets.  We are currently looking into the possibility of mounting a judicial review against this decision on the basis that our crafty southern neighbours may have bribed the judging panel with marmalade, Dundee cake and rare first editions of the Dandy.  Having appointed the same legal team who acted for the ”Road-sense’ campaign we are confident that we will be able to over-turn the jury’s decision, or at the very least postpone the awarding of the title of UK City of Culture 2017 until 2027.

But despite this, frankly perverse, decision, we remain convinced that the Aberdeen bid was a strong one. As we said when asked by the application form to point out the city’s three cultural high-lights, we have a beautiful art gallery, a magnificent theatre, and a beautiful art gallery.  It is hard to understand why the jury overlooked these many and varied attractions in favour of a city that has a number of historic ships berthed close to the city centre, a branch of the V&A museum opening in 2015 and which plays host to a thriving Rep theatre.  I don’t know what a Rep theatre is, but I find it very hard to believe that it can be as good as a great big muckle granite one.In any event, this is no time to be churlish.  While I am sorry that the many virtues of our bid were not recognised, it is time to put petty rivalries aside and get behind the local candidate.  We must be as gracious in totally unjust defeat as we would have been magnanimous in our well-deserved victory. So here’s wishing Dundee every success in their….No.  I’m sorry, I just can’t do it.

‘CAVA’ KENNY CORDINER, the football pundit who goes in feet first!

Football usually takes a back row seat during a summer without any major inter-marital tournaments taking place, but I have been glued to the back pages of the TV all week.  Firstly, the Dons has been very busy in the transfer market, Hearts have been on the blink of going into retrievership and the folk in Brazil have been getting ready for next summer’s World Cup by practicing their crowd trouble.

Dons gaffer, my old pal Derek McInnes, has given 3 stars extenuating contracts this summer as well as getting his chequebook out 3 times to bring in fresh faces to Pittodrie.  Do you think they still sign players with cheques?  I have not used one in ages.  The paper shop won’t even take them anymore.  I’m owe them for 2 years’ worth of Racing Posts!  If fact the only time you see cheques these days is when somebody gives one of that really big ones to Children in Need. What a size of a chequebook they must come from. Anyway, I never heard of our latest signing Calvin Zola before, but he’s got a cracking name for football.  Of course, Aberdeen has been able to field some great names over the years, players like of Zoltan Varga, Mixu Paatelainen, and Ilian Kiriakov. Great footballers, but more importantly, great Scrabble scores. My old pal Stewart McKimmie telt me that the strapping 6’ 3” target man left his old club, Burton’s Biscuits, to form a little & large partnership with Niall McGinn, here’s hoping their team-up is as successful as that other famous double act.  Cannon & Ball.

I just do not understand the folk in Brazil. They’ve got great weather, a superb football team and lots of beautiful women, and this year they have even got the Confetti Nations Cup as a warm down for next year’s World Cup. But because of the bus fares going up, instead of enjoying the feets of Football, those crazy Braziliantines have been marching and rioting and causing a stink. If Scotland was hosting such a major tournament I think we’d all be going bananas!  But how are that lot going over in Brazil?  Nuts. 

 There’s only one thing a North East schooling can’t prepare you for – being Secretary of State for Education.

 

JONATHAN M LEWIS, local headteacher

I felt a great deal of sympathy for some of my fellow headteachers who have found themselves in the news this week.  Down in England, Michael Gove’s third attempt to overhaul the exam system has caused quite a stir.  Several headteachers were asked for their views and many of them unwisely lampooned Gove’s plans as the sort of desperate ill-conceived shambles they had come to expect from the author of ‘Michael Portillo: the Future of the Right’.  They criticized the Secretary of State for creating a climate of bullying, fear and intimidation. What nonsense! And completely unconnected to the announcement the following day of OFSTED inspections of each and every one of their schools.

 

Michael, his extensive experience of education matters derived from his own, very representative, schooling at Walker Dam Primary, Robert Gordon’s College and Oxford, is definitely the best placed person in the country to decide how absolutely everyone should be educated. It’s a good job he doesn’t listen to the so-called experts, (shackled as they are by the conformity of their many years of teaching and studying evidence) or none of his brilliant ideas would ever get off the ground.  I, of course, am fully in favour of our fabulous new Scottish exams and if the government want to change them again, I’ll support the new ones too.  You’ve got to admire the tenacity of the man though.  Three attempts?  Let’s hope he has more luck than Callum McGhee in last year’s S6.  He never did crack Standard Grade Woodwork!

Meanwhile, an Aberdeen City school’s headteacher had a most difficult two days last week when representatives of the Travelling Community briefly occupied his playing fields.  Parents will not need to be reminded of the occasion we at Garioch played host to an unannounced visit from some of our Romany friends.  That week saw a record number of complaints and concerns, but also an unparalleled opportunity for our young people to see alternative lifestyles, at first hand, and I was extremely proud to see the pupils of this school embrace and interact with the Traveller culture, rich as it is in history and tradition. It was very dissapointing then, that after only a few days the age-inappropriate clothing, bare-knuckle fighting and defiance of all forms of authority, coupled with the destruction of property, littering, verbal abuse and intimidation all proved too much for the Travellers who moved on to some where more peaceful. ‘Beirut’, I think they said.

Ah, the freedom of the open road. What fascinating lives they lead!

 

JIMMY HOLLYWOOD, Woodside’s most eligible bachelor

Jimmy always finds Father’s Day difficult, ken? As I get blawn oot by my mates who are spending the day with their old boy in the pub, or see that the bits of stuff that I’ve trapped are posting pictures of their dads as their profile pic on Facebook (it’s permissible for quines, but some of my mates dae it too – jessies!), Jimmy can get a wee bit introspective, wishing that his old man wiz here so he could see how well his little boy is getting on.

He wid be SO proud o’ fit I hiv achieved. 79 blonds and nae lasting relationships, a BMW X5 in the driveway and only 11 live penalty points, and THE best rendition o’ ‘Suspicious Minds’ ever tae be heard on the karaoke at Café Bardot (and that assessment came fae the mooth of John McRuvie, nae less).

But, alas, my daddy his nivver been around tae see his laddie grow up. Ma Hollwyood wiz cagey, but fan pressed, she explained everything  tae me, and I noo unnerstand fit wye Jimmy nivver got tae meet hiz da. I mean, for the love-child of a megastar, the media attention wid hiv been unbearable. And the birds? I’m already beatin’ them aff wi a stick – if they kent I wiz the direct offspring o’ this particular legend, I wid nivver get oot of my hoose let alone doon tae Soul Casino for a few bevvies.

However, in the interests of freedom of information, and given that female interest in Jimmy’s charms dis appear tae hiv tailed aff a thochtie since he turned 39 for the fourth time, I feel the time is richt tae let the truth be kent. As youse ken, Jimmy is the soul of discretion, so here’s the story, but I’m naming nae names.

Back in 1970 Ma Hollywood, a fresh faced Tilly quine, and barely 20 years old, happened tae be working in the International Hotel in Vegas – she tells me this was afore the days o’ BunaCamp and gap years. Onywye, she met a gentleman in the bar after een of his shows. To safeguard his identity, I shall refer to him as “The King”.  After ‘A Little Less Conversation’ than you might have expected, they were getting “All Shook Up” in the Presidential Suite. Then, faster than she could say “Thank you, thank you very much”; he’d left the building.

9 months later, oot pops Jimmy at the Aberdeen Matty. So Da, here’s tae you on Father’s Day. If yer 1962 hit film “Girls Girls Girls” is onythin’ tae go by, Jimmy is doing you proud.

 

Does anyone else remember when ‘Lobby’ just meant the place you kept your meter-cupboard?

STRUAN METCALFE, MSP for Aberdeenshire North and Surrounding Nether Regions – An Apology

Here’s the thing. I am deeply sorry for what was posted, in my name, somewhat oddly on the Twitter-sphere this week about the latest “scandal” to engulf hard-working and much-maligned career politicians. I did not mean to make light of the cash for questions rumpus, let alone imply that it was nothing but a tornado in the Royal Doulton. Hence my unreserved apology for any contrary impression that might have been created by the following tweet:

“So, Patrick Mercer caught with his pants down by TV crew. Whoosh! Now that’s a sight that really would be a Panorama! LOL”.

Clearly – as was pointed out to me by Super Dave and his quite fearsome Whip, Sir George ‘eats his’ Young  (Yikes!) – the issue is one of grave national import and speaks to the integrity and honesty of our Westminster brethren. Not to mention their entrepreneurial ingenuity. And Dave told me specifically not to mention their entrepreneurial ingenuity.

Oops!

I am so sorry for making light of what is, quite clearly, a very important issue. Some commentators say that Lobbying is the “next big scandal”.  Jessica – my latest,  terrifically long-legged researcher – tells me that Lobbying is, in fact, the act of attempting to influence decisions made by government officials or politicians, usually by organized groups or big business. “Fa wid hiv thunk?” as they say in Banff.

Can’t see what all the fuss is about. Surely it’s just a bit of harmless, if lucrative, fun? I have been lobbied myself. There I was, minding my own business in the members’ lounge when, completely out of the blue, old Buffy Caruthers came up and lobbied me! I’d never been so lobbied. He lobbied me like I’d never been lobbied before. Oosh!

Anyhoo, it turns out that Paddy “Power” Mercer wasn’t won over by the lobbyists, he was merely acting as a consultant and advising on how best to get the question of whether Fiji should be accepted back into the Commonwealth, debated. To my mind, a spot of well-remunerated consultancy is an elected official’s god given right. How else are we supposed to make a little bit of wonga on the side? Let’s face it, you’re not going to attract the best and the brightest into politics with MP or MSP salaries. It’s only the promise of a bit of knockabout fun to fund our Singapore Slings in Boodles (and, with a bit of luck, Singapore) that keeps chaps of my calibre interested in the whole shebang!

But, as I say, my apology is without reservation. Going forward, I will undoubtedly take far more care over what I tweet. Or, indeed, who has access to the Metcalf smartphone when one of Buffy’s hilariously ribald anecdotes has left me helpless with mirth. Although, I would have to accept that, as this is the 7^th time I’ve used that excuse, that might make me the boy who cried ROFL!

TANYA SOUTAR, Local Lifestyle Guru

I dinna ken aboot youse, but I am FED UP with scientists and experts being a right bunch of killjoys with their so-called “advice”.  Dinna get me wrang, I appreciate their words of wisdom on important matters, like the latest lash-extending mascara technology, or the fact that there’s bacteria in yoghurt (Gads! Though cheers tae Tiffany fae Eastenders for the heads up on that een) but fan they’re bangin’ on aboot pregnancy I jist wint tae scream!

Last wik there wis a report aboot fit things ye should avoid fan ye’re up the duff and I dinna mind telling you, it’s really got my goat. It came fae the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists. And I ken fit you’re thinking, fit wid they ken aboot it?

 Onywye, afore youse start gossiping, yes I am pregnant! I think so onywye.  Either that or I’ve got an affa dose of trapped wind.

This report wis sayin that ye shouldnae tak painkillers in case it harms yer bairn.  Honestly?  How are you supposed tae recover fae a night oot in the Holburn Bar withoot a blister pack of Panadol the next day?  I mean, I ken I shouldnae really be drinking, but vodka & orange is my principal source of vitamin ‘C’ and that’s meant tae be good for the baby, so MAK YER MINDS UP!

Even worse is them saying you shouldnae be clarting yoursel in moisturiser or fake tan.  Fit a joke!  Little Beyonce-Rhiannah (Aye, if it’s a girl. If it’s a boy I’m crying him efter his da, and I’ve narrowed it doon tae fower possibilities) is a’ready turning my bikini body intae something that looks like Alex Salmond daein sit-ups, and on top of that I’ve got tae ging aboot peely-wally and wrinkled? I da hink so.

But the absolute pits is the advice that ye shouldnae buy ony new sofas, because of the chemicals that’s in them.  That’s a total bummer, I dinna ken if you’ve seen, but DFS hiv a sale on jist noo. Foo lang’ll it be afore that happens again?

 

Crime doesn’t pay, but it’s a great way to reduce Council Tax.

RON CLUNY, Council Spokesman.

The papers, mouthpieces for those who oppose us as they are, have been full of their usual innuendo this week when reporting the theft, from a vulnerable elderly person, of several thousand pounds. The culprit was, as the media have not been slow to point out, an employee of this local authority; the clear inference of this sly and disingenuous piece of reporting being that the Council was somehow to blame. There is no room, on occasions such as this, for equivocation or shades of grey. Let me nail my colours firmly to the mast. I absolutely and unequivocally approve the actions of this individual. This marks the start of the Council’s orchestrated fight-back against the unrealistic funding levels set by central government which are ham-stringing us in our attempts to deliver essential public services. As a central component of a new policy that we are calling ‘Entrepreneurial Funding’, carers will be ‘liberating’ (I dislike the word “stealing”) money from their clients in order to pay for their care packages. And we will not stop there. The St Nicholas Guitar Wifie has been coerced into competing as the token novelty act on this year’s X Factor on our behalf, with all profits from her activities (after Cowell and Louis Walsh have taken their pound of flesh) funding musical instruction in schools. Our city wardens will no longer be content to slap a ticket on an illegally-parked car; they will try its door, nick the stereo and if they can hot-wire it, drive it to a lock-up in Tullos, give it a respray, change the plates and flog it on Gumtree. Some of you may be surprised at our methods. Some may even be shocked. But before you criticise us, ask yourself how else we can keep delivering decent front-line social services in the face of a budget that is cut year after year after year?

View from the Midden with MTv (Meikle Wartle Television) personality JOCK ALEXANDER

It’s been a historical wik in the village. I wiz sad tae hear that the Archaeolink Prehistory Park, near the bustling metropolis of Oyne, is to be declared ‘surplus to requirements’ by Aberdeenshire Cooncil. It’s a sad day indeed, for the attraction that wis eence considered Insch’s answer tae Disney Land. Nivver again will wee kiddies stert greetin fan they don’t see ony teletubbies, or fowk get accosted by over-enthusiastic actors in authentic Bronze Age jimmies. I must say I am baffled fit wye a dynamic historical experience for all the family in the freezin caul and rain didnae catch on. Truly, though, athing has it’s time, and here in Meikle Wartle we hiv oor ain Prehistory Park jist aboot tae open. Feel Moira hiz traced her fem’ly richt back tae a terrifyingly hairy cro-magnon ancestor she found a likeness of in her bathroom mirror. We also hiv a selection of historical artefacts, uncovered through a painstaking archaeological dig of the field ahin’ my hoose, fit happened fan I telt Shifty Billy Wilson aboot the case of Glenn Fiddich I hid beeried there in case of emergencies. But fit treasures were unearthed! A fossilised bike! Going by it’s marking, we hiv reason tae believe it was eence the property of Sir Walter Raleigh. Some roosty cans with photos of attractive women on the side fit dates them back to the Dark Ages, and twa mysterious bitties of string, believed tae be a pair o’ Mesolithic nicky-tams. Fowk in the village are sure it’ll be an attraction tae eclipse even the Sewage Farm, and visitors will be pouring in all summer. Indeed, I can assure ab’dy that given the length o’ the summer, we should have no trouble in equalling Archaeolink’s numbers. Cheerio!

ALEXANDER SANG, Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Licensing Board

The CAMRA beer festival returned to Pittodrie for its annual shindig this wikend and I and my colleagues from the Executive Committee of the Licensing Board duly carried out a surprise site visit at the grand opening to ensure that the venue could cope with the anticipated numbers (they were expecting a few thousand and Pittodrie hasn’t had to accommodate that mony for a filie), check the adequacy of the glassware, and sample the good stuff afore all the beardy-weirdy pot-bellied connoisseurs got stuck in til it. Well we sampled and sampled and not content with sampling, we sampled some more. Hoppy notes and caramel aftertastes awye. Dick said he got hints of shellac from one, but we think that was jist his false teeth dissolving in a 18% barley wine that hid been shipped in fae Ulan Bator. When we were fully satisfied that the people of Aiberdeen weren’t being palmed-off with second rate booze, Doddie very obligingly took a heider doon the stairs, allowing us to test the alertness of the first-aider on call (exemplary) and the response time o’ the emergency services (verra good). All in all, it was an arduous evening’s public service, and I think I speak for the executive committee as a whole when I say I canna wait for the next een.