Awash with success

WITH everyone advised to take extra care washing their hands, schoolchildren have been informed that their soap scrub-a-dubbing should last as long as it takes to sing "Happy Birthday" twice. Though apparently other songs are available for the cleansing ritual. Which is good news for the brothers Pat and Greg Kane of Hue and Cry. According to the website, another safe method of cleaning up is to sing the Scottish duo’s 1987 hit Labour of Love.

And what does Hue and Cry’s soulful singer think about going from Top of the Pops to Sop up the Suds? “Honoured,” says Pat, “I think…”

Making a killing

A FEW years ago Jim McDonald from Carluke was holidaying in Paphos, Cyprus, when he was notified of a parade in the Old Town, which he decided to view. It turned out to be much like a Scottish Gala Day, with just a smidgen less rain. (A smidgen being a technical term meaning a couple of thousand gallons.) At the parade there were bands playing, balloons bobbing, kids whooping and all sorts of exuberant antics.

Later that day Jim asked the manager of his hotel what the festivities signified. He was informed they were a celebration of Lent. Jim pointed out that Lent took place in the UK six weeks earlier.

“Ah,” said the hotel manager, "but we killed our Jesus six weeks after you killed yours."

Game changer

A GOLF club friend of Norman Brown from Barassie, well known for his malapropisms, was heard to remark that Winston had been found guilty of unspeakable crimes, and sentenced in America. Norman is hoping that his pal was talking about the disgraced film producer Harvey Weinstein, and this wasn’t some highly unwelcome news about Jack and Victor’s one legged buddy from down Craiglang way.

Mystery man

OUR ongoing discussion regarding amusing comments made by fans during football matches reminds Paul O’Sullivan of the time in the 1970s when a Glasgow team was competing against a top Italian side in a European competition. One confused Scottish fan asked the bloke next to him if he knew the name of the right back. To which he received a pithy response that he found to be most helpful. He spent the rest of the match believing the Italians had a skilful defender called Fuctifano.

Off the record

BROWSING a local record store, reader James Dorlan was frustrated not to be able to find any discs by his favourite soul singer. “People must be panic buying his CDs for some reason,” concludes James. “Now I don’t know when I’ll next be able to find anything by Lou Rawls.”

Empty of meaning

ENDING on a decidedly daft note, Dennis Smith wonders if we know what you call an empty bag of chips. We’re not sure, so Dennis enlightens us.

“A bag,” he says.

Read more: Sir Victor Warren, Glasgow's Lord Provost, 1949