Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Thursday 26th April - Yesterday evening, my spouse treat me to a splendid birthday curry in a Leeds city centre eatery. Joined by my son Jonny and his fiancée Jenny, we were in good company, enhancing the overall ambience of the meal. A Chicken Tikka & Garlic Balti was the aforementioned curry that spent around... Continue Reading →
Tuesday 24th April - I'm Bexley Wing in situ, sitting on a waiting room sofa adjacent to my wife. Our attendance at the Leeds hospital wing necessitated by her appointment for monthly oncology treatment. Patients left and right aren't clowns and jokers - Although we are 'stuck in the middle'*** of patients and their brood.... Continue Reading →
Saturday 14th April - Yesterday evening, with vocal chords smoother than a Casanova pick up line, sharp clothing smoother than the escalators on the Piccadilly Line and soul refrains smoother than a Hollywood bikini line, US jazz singer Gregory Porter hit first direct Arena, Leeds. Actually, hit is probably too strong a word - Gently... Continue Reading →
In his seminal song 'American Pie' Don MacLean spoke of taking the Chevy to the levee, where he was disconsolate to find the levee was dry. Yesterday evening I took a Metro train to see a far from barren levee - One of whom would no doubt have received MacLean's approval more than the parched... Continue Reading →
Tuesday 3rd April - Ordinarily I'm loathed to proffer judgemental comment on the sartorial elegance of anyone. After all, I'm hardly the dedicated follower of fashion written about by Kinks frontman Ray Davies in 1966. A fact I can relay with indisputable surety with the knowledge I was only three years old when the song... Continue Reading →
Easter Saturday - Plans for a venture into Leeds for lunch are up in the air at the moment. While I scoff on a bacon sandwich, strategically fried to negate the smell of Good Friday's fried cod, my wife Karen and me are in two minds whether getting wetter than a frogman's pocket** for the... Continue Reading →
21st March 2018 is World Poetry Day. A perennial event introduced in 1999 by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO) aimed at raising the profile of prose. It's goal the pulchritude of a poem, the splendour of a sumptuous sonnet, the opulence of the ode and, for the less discerning, the lewdness... Continue Reading →
To distract me from gawping at the hypnotic sight of settling snow flurries outside, I've been watching a few minutes of a dog psychic on breakfast TV. As a sceptic of human beings being able to telepathically connect with canines, apart from Bob Carolgees & Spit the Dog, I commenced the viewing with an unhealthy... Continue Reading →
With my wife Karen being at her parents home in the People's Republic of Birtley for the weekend, I spent yesterday in the company of a massive pizza. It didn't possess Karen's charm, nevertheless it proved to be an agreeable companion during my binge-watching of rugby and a dramatization of the 1990s trial of OJ... Continue Reading →