The fame game

THE Ronains are a rapidly rising Glasgow band. Though it seems they’ve already reached legendary status…

in Clydebank.

Bass player Jim Reid was strolling through the burgh when a chap in his late forties inquired if he was that guitarist from The Romanians. Jim explained it was The Ronains.

“Aw, love the band, man. Great music,” said the Clydebank chap, who then added: “Listen mate, you couldn’t do us a massive favour, could you?”

Jim sighed indulgently, as rock gods are apt to do, and enquired if the chap wanted an autograph or perhaps a signed picture.

“Naw,” came the reply. “Could you watch ma wee boy while I nip intae the bookies and collect ma winnings?”

Naked ambition

OUR tale about a comedian being asked to perform on stage naked reminds reader David Donaldson of Robert Helpmann’s objection to ballet blokes and belles boinging about in the buff: “The trouble with nude dancing is that not everything stops when the music stops.”

Booze cruise

WE continue recalling the adventures of Peter McDougall, whose classic TV drama Just a Boys’ Game is currently showing on BBC iPlayer.

In the 1990s a journalist arrived at Peter’s flat in Glasgow’s West End at 11am, intending to interview him, then be back in the office by lunchtime. An optimistic assessment of the situation.

Ten hours and 45 minutes passed before proceedings eventually dissolved in the Ubiquitous Chip bar, thus concluding a conversational odyssey of Homeric range and ambition.

Quite possibly some imbibing of fluids was involved in the intervening hours.

Though not of the tap water variety, we hesitantly surmise.

Celebration slip-up

DURING a discussion about family birthdays, Mike Henderson’s wife mentioned she was glad such celebrations were almost concluded for the year. Our reader said he was sure there was another birthday just before Christmas. Perhaps his sister-in-law’s?

Turning to Mike with a face of resigned calmness, his wife of 49 years managed to say in the most nonchalant manner possible under the circumstances: “Naw, it's me.”

A dog’s life

WALKING his dachshund past a primary school as the children were enjoying break time, Robert Gardner heard two small girls yell: “Like your cat, mister.”

Our reader was amused. His dachshund? Not so much.

Cold plus gold

INTRIGUING question from broadcaster Muriel Gray, who says: “I’ve an absolutely stinking snottery cold. How is this medically possible since we’ve being going for gold in the isolation Olympics since March?”

Biting inquiry

“DOES Hank Marvin get offered food whenever he introduces himself?” wonders reader Scott Travers.

Read more: Those were the days