Hamish McShanks

Hamish McShanks Secret Diary – w/e 12^th June 05

‘This is your 3pm travel report, approaches to the Forth Bridge are-‘ I fiddled with the radio searching for a suitable music channel. Various tunes blared out between the walls of white noise. Radio 1 was given a swift body swerve what with me being over twelve years of age and my testicles having well and truly dropped. I scooted past Radio Scotland for a second time ‘car fire on the northbound carriageway of the A-‘ through more white noise and on to Radio 2, the crumblies radio station.

I was drumming my fingers on the steering wheel crooning away ‘drove ma Chevy to the levee la la laa’ my head bopping about as I belted out the notes at the top of my lungs. The cavernous interior of my Citroen berlingo accentuating the harmonics and convincing my deluded brain that I was in fact a diva and it was only a matter of time before I made it as a professional singer. My ears that to their cost knew better had long since shut down and popped off for a cuppa.

I was giving it laldy when I opened my eyes and noticed that the road in front was rapidly running out. Open tarmac was being replaced by imminent death. A very large very imposing and above all, very solid articulated vehicle was stationary fifty yards ahead ‘good ol boys were drinkin whiskeyJEESUUUSFU-‘ I hit the brakes and slewed sideways, blue smoke pouring from the front wheels.

From the outside it might have looked like some fairly slick driving as I swerved round the back of the lorry and slotted neatly in between a red Vauxhall astra and a dark blue BMW. It may have looked slick but in fact I had elected to close my eyes again as obviously not being able to see the vehicle would make it go away! Quite how the crying was going to help I didn’t know but a good bubble never hurts.

As the smoke settled and my heat rate slowed to a few hundred beats per minute I heard a tap tap tap on the side window. I slowly wound it down and peered out ‘That’s some interesting parking sir’ came an ominous rigid sounding voice. My heart sank as a peaked cap emerged from the receding tyre smoke. I glanced in my mirror and noticed his partner sat in the blue BMW. They seemed less than impressed by my emergency stop.

‘Yes well I can explai-‘, ‘In a rush are we sir’, ‘well yes, I mean no, I-‘, ‘Perhaps you’d like to have a seat our car and you can expl-‘ he stopped abruptly as his nose started wrinkling in disgust. His eyes were beginning to water as he backed away quickly trying not to gag ‘We pheeew can let it go this time sir… jeeeessuuus christ’, ‘I did get rather a big fright’ I mumbled in reply as he ran back to his car, slammed his door, and wound the window tightly shut.

Four hours later we finally started moving again. A car fire on the A9 had blocked the carriageway and as both lanes were clogged with traffic the emergency services couldn’t attend. The poor driver had to wait until his vehicle had burnt itself out before pushing it to the side of the road. At least he had some marshmallows with him so it wasn’t a complete disaster.

I was heading up to my bruvvas house to help with some decorating. He lives fifty miles from Aberdeen in a wee toon called Keith. ‘The Friendly Town’ a sign proclaims as you enter the place. ‘That’s nice’ I thought as I drove past. A poster had been erected next to this sign declaring this was also the weekend of the Keith Folk Festival ‘Excellent some live music too!’

I turned into the high street and nearly mowed down a gentleman with a guitar. This wasn’t actually a reflection on my driving skills as the gent in question was stotting doon the middle of the street pinballing from one parked car to another. He was clearly well prepared for the summer sunshine being stripped to the waist. His crispy sunburnt shoulders and back providing a stark contrast to the milky white guitar shaped siloutte around his midriff. It may have been sunstroke that was hindering his efforts at ambulation but I suspect our lobster coloured friend may also have kept himself well hydrated with beer.

I waited until he stumbled into a side road and drove slowly down the street. There were quite a few drunken revellers carrying a variety of musical instruments. Clearly the folk community of North East Scotland like a bit of a bevy with their music and the friendly toon had evidently proffered a few large drams. Although I don’t think the young man who was using his tenor saxophone as an impromptu urinal was going to be hitting many more high notes that night.

The music from Platoon was stuck in my head as I crawled down the high street swerving between the casualties. I was particularly taken by a prone piper who gracefully regurgitated what looked like a haggis supper over his prized pipes, lifted his bleary eyed head, took another glug of McEwens Export and then blurted out ‘Some f.f.fnbaaaastards spewed on ma pipes’ before passing out. Not quite the tartan dolly drummer image our tourist board would like to portray.

Some youths from the friendly town were also taking the opportunity to rifle through the unconscious mans pockets. Doubtless liberating him of all that terribly heavy cash and those viciously sharp credit cards in his wallet. A civic duty to protect the poor man from injuring himself. Makes you proud that kids today are so thoughtful. Quite where a kick in the spuds featured in civic duty I don’t know but our unfortunate highlander received one or two when he threatened to rouse.

I pulled up outside my brothers’ house and went to open his gate. There were a couple of banjos and a skiffle board blocking the way ‘Looks like the country boys have been run out of town’ I mused. Folk music and Country music don’t mix well in the North East of Scotland. The line-dancing fad of the late nineties didn’t help, the country boys got too big for their boots if you’ll pardon the pun.

I’m thinking of writing a musical about it myself. I’ve pencilled in Ewan McGregor, Nicole Kidman and Jimmy Shand in the leading roles. It will be tale of burning love against a backdrop of fierce musical strife between two feuding genres with ancient and deep-rooted prejudices. And a cast of over a thousand accordions!

Watch out for ‘North East Rammy’ in a cinema near you ……

Doei