Should a footballer player be sacked for taking the knee? When Willie Miller did it he just got a booking.

Cava Kenny Cordiner, the football pundit who’s first and ten. Whatever that means.

On Sunday night I seen the football from Wembley between Jacksonville Jaguars and the Balamory Ravens. I should make myself clear, I was watching what Americans cry “football” and what everybody else cries “American football”. Despite the name, it’s not nothing like our football at all, in fact, isotonically, it’s more like British Bulldogs, but with tinsel.

That not-still-standing, I’ve got quite into my American football of late. It’s got the power and physiotherapy of rugby mixed with the lycra and shoulder pads of Dynasty. But underneath those layers and layers of padding, the American footballers had something to get off their chest.

They say that sport and politics is like oil and water – they should not never not get mixed. But on Sunday that is exactly what they done. The players kneeled down in protest when they played the American National Anthem, the Star Bangled Spanner.

Now there has been a lot writ about what the protest is about, some of which the lovely Melody has read to me out loud, and if I has copied the bit out of the Guardian website properly, it started with one player trying to bring attention to America’s systemic problems of racial inequality. From that it has growed and growed, and now as well as that the players is also not happy about Donald Trump and how much of a bampot he is. And fair play to the lads.

Of course, old Kenny is no stranger to getting involved in a political controverbial. A few seasons ago I was at a Scotland game where they held a minute’s applause to commemorate a recently deceased hero of the national team. Some people got angry with me because I found that, when that suspicious moment come, I could not clap along with everyone else. I wasn’t being disrespectful or nothing, I just never had nowhere to put my Bovril.

Kevin Cash, moneysaving expert & king of the grips

Taxi-hailing app Uber is set to lose its London license efter a ruling that it was “not fit and proper” tae hold it. Five hunner thoosand Londoners hiv daen fit they ayewiz dae, and protested, and wi 40 thoosand drivers and millions o’ customers, ab’y’s a wee bittie anxious. Luckily, the very same day, the company announced it’s plans tae expand intae Aiberdeen “as soon as possible”. And good for them, I say! Just cos they’ve a’ready been banned by Denmark, Australia, Canada and France that’s nae barrier tae success in Scotland. Jist look at Irn Bru.

Uber has already been a great success in baith Glasgow and Edinburgh which are of course affa similar tae Aiberdeen, apart fae the weather, population size, and road systems.

But dinna get ower excited, Uber’s application is noo in the hands of the Cooncil, and we a’ ken the approach thaey tak tae controversial proposals. So expect fower year o’ lip-service public consultation and widespread opposition followed by the licence getting granted onywye. Luckily, files we’re waiting, I can fill ‘at gap in the market wi’ my ain high-tech transport service.

Noo, there are mony wyes tae travel at low cost in this city – hiding in the spacious footwell of a big black cab, drawing extra wrinkles on yer fizzog and using yer grunny’s bus pass, or nicking a moped aff the Deliveroo boy fan he’s waiting for yer neighbour tae answer the door. But my fleet of ice cream vans (formerly ‘Kev’s Kool Kabs’ noo renamed ‘Slider’) remains the best value around. We da need bus lanes, or taxi-ranks, or the right o’ way.

Uber his come under fire for failing driver background and safety checks. Nae such worries wi’ Slider drivers – they’ve nae had ony o’ those checks in the first place. A’ my drivers is recruited fae a specialised pool. It’s a pool of stale beer oot the back of the Grill, fit is een o’ the few places in Aiberdeen far ye can find mannies that are happy tae drive an ice-cream van wi’ nae MOT very fast intae oncoming traffic.

Uber may hiv GPS and its smartphone app, but that’s discriminating against fowk that dinna hae access tae technology, ken? I hiv achieved the same thing wi’oot the need for a’ that faff by keeping the ice-cream jingles connected up, so you ayewiz ken far we are. Plus, and here’s the clincher for canny Aiberdonians, I keep a few oot o’ date choc ices in the freezer for fan a customer gets the munchies.

The signs on Broad Street are right, it’s very much ‘business as usual’.

View From The Midden – rural affairs with MTv (Meikle Wartle Television) presenter Jock Alexander  

It’s been a constructive wik in the village. Noo that the temperature has taken it’s annual Autumnal plunge fae ‘nae bad’ tae ‘michty ‘at’s caul’! I hiv spent maist mornings tucked up in my jimjams, listening tae the radio ‘til the frost on my baffies his melted and I wis sorry tae hear aboot the city’s latest travails fae that aul’ buggerbear Road Works.

Aye, it’s the bane o’ a’ wir lives. Here, as in Aiberdeen, they only iver seem tae dig up the busiest roads at the maist inconvenient times. Of course we in the village suffer mair than maist as we only hiv the one road, and fan I say ‘they’ dig them up, I mean Feel Moira efter she’s ta’en a bucket files watching ‘DIY SOS’.

Therefore, I hiv ivery sympathy for the peer shopkeepers of UpperkIrkgate fa arenae chuffed that Broad Street will remain closed & dug up well past the hoped-for completion date fer Marischal Square.

Someone fae the council telt me it wiz ayewiz earmarked tae reopen in late summer; it’s jist naeb’dy wid admit it was late summer 2018.  And in fairness, officials in Marischal College may have some trouble working oot fan summer actually is, thanks tae being in permanent shadow. Onywye, workers hiv encountered “unexpected issues” fan digging the road up – unusual items such as concrete and drains hiv got in the wye. Fit begs the question – fit wis they expecting tae find, Narnia? So, aye, Broad Street and Upperkirkgate remain shut, but on the bright side it his given the hale area a quaint period feel for the tourists, although it is a peety that period is “The Night O’ the Big Blitz”.

Though as I say I’m nae an expert; the road in Meikle Wartle wisnae sae much built as evolved slowly ower time wi’ the slow accretion of the fossilised sharny dubs of mony centuries. It saves a fortune on tar, but ye dinna walk it barfit on a warm day. Weell, nae twice onywye.

But I digress. I hiv heard great things aboot Marischal Square. Fowk fae Aiberdeen spik aboot little else. Unless they bide near Kingsford, obviously. I’m told the hotel bittie is something tae behold. Apparently even after ye close yer eyes, ye canna unsee it.  And the development itself is set tae be nae jist the city’s premier outlet fer coffee, ice cream, and local news, I overheard someb’dy say it that in a very exciting and praiseworthy move it’s also gan tae be a sanctuary for white elephants.

Cheerio!

Education round–up with Jonathan M Lewis, local headteacher



Last week was another tremendously exciting one here at Garioch Academy, as our young learners continued to lead us into tomorrow, developing skills and capabilities to an exceptionally satisfactory standard. 

One of the most rewarding parts of being entrusted with the education of our future achievers is when an external body, for example the Scottish Government, gives us the opportunity to participate in a new initiative. We relish the chance to meet the challenge of modifying all our teaching plans on an enormous scale.

Parents will be familiar with “World Book Day”, when younger pupils come to school dressed as their favourite figure from world literature. I’m sure, like me, you are annually astonished by the depth of our young people’s cultural knowledge; they never fail to choose a character who appears not only in books, but also in film or on television.

Well, last week was devoted to matters mathematical. The inaugural ‘Maths Week Scotland’ saw pupils across Garioch take part in “Maths wi nae Borders”, a nationwide competition that celebrated both mathematical thinking and our linguistic heritage. 

Of course, the usual, ill informed but vocal minority amongst the parent body have responded, unfairly, with howls of derision and complaint about the sudden imposition of vast amounts of additional maths homework, but what better way to celebrate Mathematics and make it exciting for pupils than by making them think about nothing else for a week?

Unlike my detractors, I am always ready to see the glass half full. I know that the class lucky enough to have had a qualified Maths teacher during the current staff shortage thoroughly enjoyed the competition. For those that had the benefit of an ever changing cast of talented, if not specifically qualified, cover teachers during Maths Week, they now have a superb understanding of the concept of irony.

Don’t shoot! It’s Irma and Ruby.

Professor Hector J Schlenk, Senior lecturer in the Public Engagement With Science at the Bogton Institute

As a scientist, I am often asked searching questions like “Which of these three things is the least ‘offensive’? A big red banner in support of a planning development, a huge, empty concrete and glass office structure, or Aberdeen’s front line against Hearts?” But I try to avoid such questions as I am not an expert in the areas of Town Planning or Association Football; unlike, it would appear, everyone else in the North-East with a twitter account.

Instead, this week, I have been closely following the terrifying progress of Hurricane Irma, which has now left nearly 7 million homes without power in the USA after causing untold devastation across the Caribbean. Hurricanes are naturally occurring storms that form when warm air rises over water, causing huge swirling storm clouds with the rotation of the earth. Think of it like the spin cycle of an un-balanced washing machine; the particularly noisy one that rattles the dishes two rooms away. In this analogy, the Hotpoint front loader is the planet Earth, and any buildings in the storm’s path are represented by a recently assembled Lego model of the Death Star, carelessly placed atop the machine by someone’s wife and which thanks to the violence of it’s environment, reduced once again to it’s constituent 3803 pieces.

In these contentious times, of course, debate is fierce as to whether man-made global warming is increasing the severity and frequency of such conditions. Well, perhaps ‘debate’ isn’t the right word. Given the over whelming scientific consensus, the argument most closely resembles the one between Widow Twanky and the audience of Aladdin in a very large theatre re. the wisdom of exchanging new lamps for old.

Certainly, it is true to say that a hotter atmosphere holds more moisture, as anyone who has staggered damply from the tropical bittie in the Winter Gardens will attest. With waters in the Gulf of Mexico now 1.5 degrees hotter than 10 years ago, the link to ever more powerful and deadlier hurricanes seems empirically confirmed. Sadly of course, the link to sensible thinking is not. In the wake of the USA’s decision to withdraw from the Paris climate change agreement, Americans have been taking the matter into their own hands and dealing with extreme weather in their own, unique manner. By shooting at it.

A combination of the social media event ‘Shoot at Hurricane Irma’ attracting 45 thousand people, and mischievous graphics purporting to show the ‘correct’ way to shoot bullets into a hurricane without them flying out again have lead the Florida police to the point where they felt the need to ask gun owners not to pop a cap in the weather. As if evidence of human intelligence wasn’t already scant, the police used the catchy, but scientifically implausible warning slogan “Bullets come back”.  One rather hopes that, eventually in America, common sense will too.
To distract myself from merciless nature’s uncaring ways, I have, of course, been highly excited by this week’s main scientific discovery. I speak of the Swiss boffins who have invented a brand new flavour of ‘Ruby’ chocolate. It’s the first new natural colour of chocolate in 80 years, which begs the 2 questions just how hard were they trying? And, are their any jobs going at that laboratory? This new pink delight is apparently ‘sweet, sour and fruity’. Which does sound rather like my wife, or ‘Rogue Leader’ as I now call her.

In a world of increasing international tension and extreme weather, there is much to be said for the soothing effects chocolate consumption. The link between cocoa bean flavonoids and the release of endorphins is well established, so to promote public engagement with science, and also general well being I have been attempting to synthesise my own ‘batch’ here at the Bogton Institute. Also, the real stuff won’t be on sale for months and if I’m quick I could get it flogged to Sainsbury’s first.  After a productive evening in with a large bowl of cooking chocolate and several sachets of strawberry flavour angel delight, I believe I have come up with something very close to it. I intend to take a sample of it on the bus to the Bridge of Dee, as if I cant interest the supermarkets, I think I might be able to persuade B&Q to stock it as loft insulation.

Offshore Europe, filling bus shelters with bamboozled visitors since 1973

Kevin Cash, moneysaving expert and king of the grips

Times is hard here in Aiberdeen, but if ye follow my advice, you can still manage tae stay afloat. Recently I’ve been trying my hand at the noble art o’ the independent taxi driver. Sort of like Uber, but a bittie less tied up wi’ a’ the unnecessary red tape of MOTs, insurance and driving licenses, ken? Conditions this wik hiv been ideal, thanks tae a combination of dreich weather, tons o’ road closures and the twin delights of baith Offshore Europe and Freshers Week.

First, get yer vehicle, and mak it stand oot fae the crowd. A black cab is good, but an auld ice-cream van stands oot mair. I customised my een by blacking out the picters of Noddy and Big Ears, scrawling “Kev’s Kool Kabs” on the side and installing a horn like the een fae the Dukes of Hazard. It’s also very important tae offer an inclusive service, so mak sure your taxi is wheelchair accessible. I have daen mines by making a handy ramp oot o’ a sheet of corrugated iron aff the roof o’ a garage in Gladstone place.

Next, choose yer fare. Freshers hiv potential, because they’re nae skint yet, they’ve nae idea far onything is and they’re usually plastered. But therein lies the doonside and I’m nae a fan o’ hosing boak oot o’ my footwells.

So this week I have been soley targeting bewildered visitors tae Offshore Europe. It’s nae hard tae spot those in need of transport, thanks to the tell-tale signs; the weel-pressed suit, (worn wi’ oot a tie, ‘cause they’re on a jolly) the luggage on wheels, and the look o’ total incomprehension files standing on Union Street trying to decipher the bus timetable. Weel daen tae FirstBus, by the way, for creating a public transport system far ye hiv tae ken the number, colour and noo also the name o’ the bus yer needing. I’ve bade here my hale life and I’ve got nae idea far ony o’ the buses ging onymair – so vistors hiv got nae chance! Suitably disoriented, they will be only too delighted to take refuge in yer van, especially if ye dae fit I dae and park in Back Wynd at a 90 degree angle so naen o’ the ither taxis can get past.

I ken it sounds boring, but Offshore Europe itsel’ is weel worth a visit. At the entrance, you’ll get past security if ye fashion a lanyard fae the shiny side o’ an fag packet and a Tesco’s Strawberry Lace. Once in, grab as mony freebies and goodie bags as ye can stagger oot wi’. They’ve got a’ sorts o’ swag there, ye ken. Pens, mints, that dongle thingies fit attach tae a laptop, and if, you’re lucky enough to spy een unattended, a laptop. If onyb’dy questions ye, simply respond “Ostali su otišli na zahod!” fit is Croatian for “Ab’dy else has jist nipped tae the lavvie”.

Then its time to take your precious cargo back intae toon (having left the meter running a’day, of course). But da be feel and ging straight there; these peer fowk are exhausted efter a hard day’s schmoozing, so help them tae relax by taking them by ‘scenic’ route fae the Exhibition Centre to Union Street; via Bucksburn.

Shelley Shingles, showbiz correspondent and Miss Fetteresso 1985

OMG! I couldn’t believe it when I seen that Scotland has been voted the most beautiful country on the planet by the Rough Guide. I was fair chuffed until I realised it was talking about the countryside and not us lovely lassies! Still, it’s a great accolade, although, speaking as someone who has travelled the length and breadth of the country as a spokes-model for the House of Bruar, I think that we have to count ourselves lucky that whoever judged it was obviously a midgie enthusiast with a sun allergy and a fetish for waterproof clothing who went to Skye on one of the three days of the year when the Cuillins weren’t obscured by mist who’s never seen twa drunk mannies fight a seagull for a dropped fish supper on the top deck of the St Nicholas Centre.

But still, it’s true what they say – familiarity breeds contempt. I think we often forget just how bonny Scotland really is, and it’s only when you see visitors gawping aboot, eyes wide wi’ wonder, that you mind to tak in the majesty o’ wir surroundings. Aye, after you’ve sworn at them for getting in your road!