P&J Column for 22.7.13

The Open Championship – it’s open to everyone, as long as they don’t have two X chromosomes

STRUAN METCALFE, Conservative MSP for Aberdeenshire North-by-Northeast – An Apology

Fore! Get in the Hole! Howzat?

What a splendid time I had down at Muirfield this weekend. The Open is always an excellent chance to catch up with some old faces in the 19th hole and to sink a few swift ones with new friends. On that note, I do need to apologise to Nick “tubby” Faldo. I’m ashamed to say that when I spotted him at the bar I was a little bit forward. Urged on by my host, Fatty Blenkinsop (former Gordonstoun tuck-shop monitor, now something big in Imperial Tobacco. Btw – cheers for the tickets Fatty!) I tapped him on the shoulder and said “Mr. Faldo?”

“Yes?” He replied, quick as a flash.

“I’ve been watching you for 25 years, and I just wanted to say, thanks…”

“Well, that’s very kind”

“Thanks for making my golfing look good nowadays, you has-been! Ha ha!”.

He didn’t see the funny side. In my defence I had spent an afternoon in the “Bollie Tent” quaffing champers with one eye on the big screen leader-board and another oggling for totty. Which leads me to my latest apology. After a few too many sherberts I really ought to learn to keep the android in my trousers. I must sincerely apologise to Muirfield Golf Club after my tweet of Saturday afternoon:

“The Open. What talent there is on display. Am talking about Woods and Westwood, not the eye candy. Hardly a girlie to be seen. Boring! #nogirlsallowed #likebeingbackatschool”

In no way did I mean to imply any disrespect towards the Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers. Their ancient tradition of barring women from membership at Muirfield has nothing to do with sexual discrimination. It simply reflects the fact that the club dates its constitution from the mid 18th Century. So little from that period has survived – smallpox, child labour, the slave trade, – Muirfield should be applauded for trying to preserve a little of the past!

TANYA SOUTAR, local lifestyle guru

I dinna ken aboot youse, but I am so totally over the bonny weather. I’m scunnered with a’ this “summer” we’ve been getting. Het? The ither day I wis that plottin’ I needed to change my boob-tube fan it wis nae even ten in the morning! Regular readers may hiv daen a double take fan they read that last bittie – but dinna fear, I wis still in my bed!

But it’s nae fine is it? As I write this my oxters is dripping and my decollage is like the Falls of Feugh. But since it looks like the weather’s set fair for the next few days at least, here’s Tanya’s guide tae getting by in the sun.

Firstly, ab’dy kens you’ve tae be careful with yer skin.  These days, we dinna rely on exposure tae potentially harmful radiation tae get that sun-kissed glow. Instead we get the same effect by carefully applying to oor skin a solution of bisto gravy granules. But the real sun is still hinging aboot in the sky like a great big orange bampot. So even fan your skin is a delicate shade of stewed tea, you still need tae tak care tae avoid getting burned. Sadly, nae only does sun tan lotion block up your pores and bring you oot in plooks, it costs an arm and a leg.  Fan I pay fifteen quid for a bottle of something exotic, it’s nae the UV I wint tae ken aboot, it’s the ABV! So, rather than shelling oot tae get a pizza face, clart yersel in salad cream instead.  It’s a fraction of the price, looks the same and it smells much finer!

Secondly, ab’dy will be looking’ at yer summer ootfit.  So mak sure ye work oot fit style suits ye best.  This summer, all the fashion conscious quines I ken are working denim shorts and tiny tops. This is a great look, unless you are a fat pleiter, in which case you will appear to have accidentally pit on your bairn’s claithes. If you’re an auld mannie, wear brilliant white socks with your sandals, a knotted hankie on your heid, and a short sleeved shirt under your Harris Tweed jaiket.  If you’re a skinny ned, malnourished by a diet of Irn-bru and Monster Munch, whip yer top aff and tuck it doon the waist band of your 3/4 length Adidas trackie-bottoms so’s folk can coont your ribs and hae a chucke at your farmer’s tan.

Lastly, hot weather is the only time of the year fan ye dinna get disapproving looks fae strangers for drinking in public.  Right noo, the swanky beer gairdens and funcy sit-ooteries of the toon are hoaching with middle class folk sipping Prosecco and pear cider. So mak full use of this cultural shift by cracking open a bottle of Thunderbird or a can of White Lightening at een of the city’s mair lang established al fresco venues; like the Castlegate or the top of the St Nicholas Centre.

See the Flying Pigs live in ‘Finzean in the Rain’ at HMT Aberdeen 7th-16th November