Ordinarily, I don’t watch breakfast TV magazine shows. Indifference to celebrity gossip, unashamed self publicity of guest’s new books and show biz ‘idols’ showing similar indifference in reporter Dan Wootton’s selfies, negating my desire to pay it much mind. This morning, though, I was glued to a segment of ITV’s Lorraine show, featuring a remarkably spirited and inspirational lady named Kris Hallenga. A girl who, following her diagnosed of secondary […]
I vacuumed my car interior this afternoon. With the vehicle’s dark grey upholstery and vacuum cleaner nozzle ordinarily like ships that pass in the night, I’m unsure whether it was me or my trusty old Vauxhall Astra most surprised by this spontaneous act. “What’s the big deal, Strachan?!….. Removing dust and litter from the seats and floor wells is something I undertake every Sunday. A habitual task I partake after […]
“I could tell my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.” A trademark self-deprecating one-liner from late wall-eyed US comedian Rodney Dangerfield. Just one of a barrage of quips in his quick-fire standup act, interspersed with the woe-is-me catchphrase “I don’t get no respect!” Although he was only joking onstage “I told my psychiatrist that everyone hates me. He said I was being ridiculous – […]
Tuesday 29th May – This morning, I’ve revamped the look and feel of my website https://strachan.blog – A fiddly task where customising the site to my aesthetic requirements isn’t ordinarily achieved without significant trial and error. I liken the process to that of attempting to ‘wind up’ my adult children. That a strategy of antagonising them until they ‘bite’ at my mischievous jibes. Like the process for procuring the website […]
On this day in mid-1960’s Kirskstall, Leeds my younger brother Ian made his appearance into the world. Born at home, our kid arrived shortly after the conclusion of the second Cassius Clay vs Sonny Liston fight. With Clay (latterly Muhammed Ali) winning by first round KO, Ian didn’t turn up on time to witness Liston being struck to the canvas by the Louisville Lip. Although I suspect, as a new-born […]
Thursday 17th May – I’m sat writing this monologue at the salon of my mum’s hairdresser. My attendance here that of dutiful son patiently awaiting to drive his mater home post-haircut. Despite me being firmly entrenched in middle-age, mum feel moved to promise me a bag of M&S Peppa Pig candies if I’m a good boy while her locks are shorn. This barnet maintenance a Herculean monthly challenge laid down […]
Friday 11th May – When I woke I’d not much planned for my day. Conspicuous by it’s presence, the white space from my old school paper diary forlornly stared back at me – It’s chaste pages bereft of itinerary. As it was, my morning was anything but empty. If it had been pre-planned in my diary, Friday’s loose leaf would have journalled my morning something like this:- 9am – Commence […]
