Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
“How do I define history? ..... It's just one f***ing thing after another” A whimsical quote borrowed from Leeds writer Alan Bennett's prose in the tome History Boys. An observation which, when dusk falls on the year 2020, will perfectly describe the twelve months being consigned to a very large toxic waste bin. As this... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening GJ Strachan joined seven buddies to partake in a Zoom quiz. This inquisition, in part, a display of deference to folk singing/whistling legend Roger Whittaker. Amongst this reverence some group members fleetingly adorning card masks bearing the warbler's visage. This evening of esprit taking the form of general knowledge queries relating to a selection... Continue Reading →
"....Oh June, like the mountains are blue Like the pine I am lonesome for you..." After bidding good riddance to the month of May and a tentative welcome to June's advent here on planet COVID, the above sentiments from Laurel & Hardy's refrain Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia play continuously on loop upon my cranial jukebox. Like... Continue Reading →
With a soundscape of distant radio music and children's brio while frolicking in nearby gardens, GJ Strachan perches garden patio table in situ. His self-appointed mission the scribbling of a second Spring Bank Holiday Monday chronicle. Sheltering from early afternoon solar rays under a hefty parasol, I'm currently afflicted by epiphany impotence. Potential topics for... Continue Reading →
Moments prior to the contest commencing, five gladiators eyed each other suspiciously, behaviour manifesting from apprehension of what awaited in the fight ahead. This upcoming event only affording victory to one person..... To the victor the spoils!!..... Unless of course there was a two way, three way, four way or five way tie. Beads of... Continue Reading →
It goes without saying, COVID-19 has resulted in innumerable changes to our existences since the global community sauntered aimlessly into 2020. The premature loss of loved ones, livelihoods severely impacted, children's educations disrupted, and shortages of tissue to wipe ones posterior, just a few of the unwelcome imposters humanity's faced since the year's dawning. As... Continue Reading →
This Thursday, I'll be facilitating an online music quiz. My participants buddies from Gateshead, who'll sup from an event melting pot including musical inquisition and performances of refrains they've penned, or covered. At this juncture perhaps I should clarify, with the exception of myself and Mick, the main protagonists to this musical smorgasbord can all... Continue Reading →
With perpetual days playing out to the same old daily storyline, I'm starting to notice little indicators that life in quarantine has subliminally started to impact my behaviour. For instance, eight weeks without leave aboard the good ship Chez Strachan imparting me with enough interest in daytime TV show Bargain Hunt to actively learn the monikers... Continue Reading →
I'd a particularly fraught dream last night; these slumber visions playing out in a huge indoor labyrinth. A highly unsettling set of events where I'd been informed by the labyrinths owner, who went by the moniker Mr G Roundhog-Day, my liberty could only be secured by prevailing in a set of gruelling, idiosyncratic challenges. Among them... Continue Reading →