ALTHOUGH he has been leafing through the pages of his songbook in the company of a cast of Scottish musical celebrity chums – and a horn section – for a decade now, I had not previously made it to any of Phil Cunningham's Christmas gigs. And since this was the year that the retro-hipsters finally took over our Yuletide celebrations and anything anyone's family ever did occasionally at this time of year became "traditional", a concert based fairly firmly on trad music and over ten years in the calendar seemed like a notable oversight that should be remedied. These days it was possible to enjoy it in the superior acoustic of Glasgow City Hall as well, a mere step down the road from Herald HQ. So that is exactly what I did. As my colleague Rob Adams had covered the first Edinburgh performance in that day's paper, there was not even a reviewing task to be done, just musical appreciation.

Alas – and although I had been careful to silence my portable telephone before the concert began – I was contacted during the first half of the concert about a matter that required my attention. While I have seen – and remonstrated with – folk who deal with such a situation by text from their seat, and been aghast at audience members elsewhere in the world simply taking the call, I excused myself to my neighbours at the end of the song, and went out to the foyer to use the phone. Having done so, and at the end of the next song, I returned to the show, but sat at the back rather than disturb those sitting near my allocated seat for a second time.

Things then took a horrid, and very 2016, turn. A song or two later, a couple bustled up the aisle towards the back of the hall towards the door and left the auditorium, but not before giving me a double-take and then a very pointed glare. The penny did not drop, so I was surprised when the male of the two then stepped back in to the hall and beckoned me out to the stair. When I did so he asked if I had left my bag and coat at my seat in the stalls. I explained that I had had to leave – inconveniencing as few people as possible I hoped – in order to deal with a phone call. At which point I was accused of gross irresponsibility in abandoning my belongings. The cities of Paris and Berlin were mentioned. I was not exactly delighted to be harangued in this way, so I suggested the chap was being a little unreasonable, not intemperately I don't think, but perhaps mistakenly. He told me he would nonetheless be reporting the matter.

I have no idea whether he did or not – clearly the hall staff, with the safety of their customers as their prime concern, would have no choice but take his side in the matter – but his reaction continues to trouble me. When most people had found their way out for an interval drink, I went back for my bag and coat. The couple had returned to their seats, and after lifting my stuff I said I was sorry if they had been distressed, at which point my blase attitude again came under fire. So I added, again probably unwisely, that I found it more distressing – from the point of view of resisting the threat of terrorism – that he was so intimidated. And I still do, although I imagine not everyone will agree. But that, I suppose, was 2016 for you.