Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Sitting with a bowl of wasabi peas and a mandarin, carrot and ginger smoothie, I've one eye on my laptop and the other on a Sky Atlantic show called The Trip to Spain. This a series of six half hour shows in which British entertainers/writers Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon sample cuisine at some of... Continue Reading →
With the sad news of Karen's mum's critical medical condition, plans for the foreseeable future in casa Strachan are understandably in limbo. My wife still in the north east maintaining her bedside vigil, along with providing support for her distraught father. I'm in regular contact with my little missus by phone and text, where she... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, with the blindingly low autumn sun necessitating a salute-like shielding of my eyes, I sat Elland Road Stadium in situ with my son Jonny. Our two East Stand seats the exact same ones we secured as season tickets during his childhood. With my now twenty-something son being only 12 years old last time we... Continue Reading →
Summer 1976 - Recollected by many for wall to wall sunshine in the UK, the Montreal Olympic Games, Jimmy Carter/Gerald Ford's nominations in the US presidential election and the end of the Cod War between the UK and Iceland. For me, though, I recall it as an era my existence took an unwelcome path for... Continue Reading →
Today would've been my mum and dad's 58th wedding anniversary; the first since he passed ten days after last year's commemoration of the same event. It was a time he was so poorly the old man was unable to write his message of endearment in my mother's card. Necessitated me penning the words of affection,... Continue Reading →
Unless they introduce a 'Best Performance Stood In A Green T-Shirt With A Collection Bucket in M&S' category, it's an event that's unlikely to secure me a BAFTA nomination. Nevertheless, I thought I'd make you, my discerning reader, aware that brief clips of an interview I did with a 'Made in Leeds' TV reporter are... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, for some unknown reason, an acquaintance asked my opinion on the apparent impasse over the UK's Brexit agreement. If he was asking from the position of respect for my political opinions, although misguided, I appreciated their trust in seeking my unreliable witterings. That being said, though, I hold no opinion on the subject. My... Continue Reading →
This morning, Facebook memories felt moved to remind me three years ago today I printed off 360+ pages of A4 paper containing a tome I penned in spring 2010. Not the most ecologically friendly of undertakings on my part, however, at that time hubris fed a need to possess paper copies of yours truly's art.... Continue Reading →
In yesterday's prose Gerchta I penned my tribute to one half of the band Chas & Dave, who sadly passed over the weekend. An offering where I penned of a fondness for the older tunes, deeply rooted in songs of traditional London pub knees ups, bequeathed by Chas Hodges and Dave Peacock. As with the... Continue Reading →