Dux in a row

THE Diary always strives to float majestically above the humdrum and hurly-burly of modern life. We avoid the daily news cycle, preferring to peddle jauntily on our trusty news penny-farthing.

Are we too esoteric, perhaps? Too highfalutin? Not at all. Indeed, we aim to provide our gourmet readership with even richer fare. Which is why we’ve been dabbling in Latin of late, with contributors reminiscing about their favourites verses in that splendiferous language.

Today, Veronica Liddell recalls a favourite ditty from her studies at St Mary's in Bathgate:

Cedem lores

Cedem go

Forte lores in aro

Demarnt lores, demar trux

Fulla hensan causan dux.

What a banker

RIVER CITY actor Jordan Young says: “My banking app keeps asking if I’m ‘enjoying the app’, like a really needy, insecure lover.”

Rather caddishly, Jordan adds: “If all my finances didn’t go through it, I’d dump it.”

Arty cat

NIFTY nicknames continued. Every student of architecture knows that one of the great practitioners of the profession was Mies van der Rohe, who famously designed minimalistic buildings.

Reader Paul Boyle recalls that Glasgow School of Art’s house-cat in the early 60s was called Meece van der Rodent.

Meaty musing

OBSERVANT Andrew Cathcart from Linlithgow notes that many fleshers advertise themselves as "1st Class Butchers".

“Always wondered why the 2nd Class ones don’t shout about it from the rooftops,” he adds.

Wind of change

A RESTAURANT story in the Diary reminds Gordon Fisher from Stewarton of a tale he assures us is genuine. He was enjoying a meal in an illustrious Glasgow dining salon when a large and rough-looking chap emitted an indecorous noise from his nether regions.

A woman at an adjacent table glowered at her husband and cocked her head in the direction of the culprit. The timid-looking husband cleared his throat and said in the firmest voice he could muster: "Excuse me, you f****d in front of my wife."

To which the offender gallantly replied: "Ahm sorry, pal. Ah didnae know she wanted tae go first."

Café society

WE’RE devising advertising jingles, based on famous songs, to promote local businesses once lockdown ends. Robbie Duncan suggests the tune from the movie High Noon could celebrate neighbourhood cafes, with the lyrics becoming: “Doughnut forsake me, oh my darling.”

(PS: Our reader assures us his name is Robbie Duncan, not Dunkin. So there’s no conflict of interest in his proposed promotional campaign.)

Apathy schmapathy

THOUGHT for the day. Reader Paul Fowler asks: “Does anyone really care if scientists find a cure for apathy?”

Read more: Those were the days...