The lips have it
IT'S been decades since the world was unaware of the pop star who, following his ceremonial visit to Buckingham Palace this morning, will be known as Sir Michael Jagger. It was different in 1968, however, when Mick visited California. Accompanied by his personal road manager, Phil Kaufman, Mick entered a Santa Monica bank to cash a wired money-order. Mick's casual apparel - T-shirt, swimming trunks, flip-flops - convinced the bank manager to demand proof of Mick's identity. ''He wasn't going to give us the money,'' Phil recalls in his
memoir, Road Mangler DeLuxe.
''I said, 'Look at the lips.
That's Mick Jagger. That's ID for you, just look at the lips.''' It worked, too.
Wrong notes
THE Caledon Tenors - the kilted chaps who belt out Flower of Scotland at disco speed before rugby and football internationals - were singing and helping pack shoppers' bags at Falkirk's Asda this week to promote Radio Scotland's music shows as part of the radio station's 25th anniversary celebrations. Despite the fact that the Caledon boys were in kilts and singing, some of the Falkirk shoppers didn't quite work out who they were. In fact, by the end of an hour the trio had picked up more than (pounds) 6 in tips from
shoppers grateful for having their bags packed. Naturally, it was donated to charity.
Straight up
WE are saddened by the prurience of some other newspapers. The Sydney Morning Herald, for instance, reports that a poor chap fell from the upper floor of the Telstra Dome in Melbourne while at a Robbie Williams concert this week. Giving detail we're unsure we need, the newspaper quoted Telstra spokeswoman Susan Wood, who stated: ''Eye-witnesses said he wasn't even fully erect when he fell.''
What's in a name?
A London-based reader reckons he's found a bar-brasserie which, judging by the sheer pretension of its name, would be much more at home in Glasgow's G12 rather than its present location in Battersea High Street. Proudly billing itself as ''London's only acoustic jazz/gypsy-swing venue'', it's The Quecumbar.
l An unfeeling loudmouth in a bar was this week heard opining: ''Apparently the doctors are saying that Ozzy Osbourne is incoherent and having trouble walking after his quad bike accident - so how will they know when he's back to his old self?'' Shameful.
Hands up
CELTIC manager Martin O'Neill was interviewed on Good Morning Scotland yesterday, fulminating against his side's defeat by Lyon and defending Bobo Balde, the Celt whose arm-waving gave the French team their winning penalty. Martin said he felt sure Bobo's illegal contact with the ball was fleeting and unintentional. He also said he'd go and look at TV film footage, readily amending his decision in the light of solid visual evidence. Or as various readers are convinced Martin put it: ''If it really was a penalty, I'd put my hand up.''
Direct approach
IT'S just as well it was a Rangers devotee who was standing at a bus stop on Crookston Road on Wednesday night. Otherwise, there's no telling what directions might have been given to two
non-Glaswegians in a black four-wheel-drive who drew up asking the way to Ross Hall Hospital.
The pair were injured Georgian defender Zurab Khizanishvili and Dutch coach Jan Wouters, both cruelly denied a loan of the cash-strapped Ibrox club's one A-Z.
l Our request for punningly-named shops has now reached
the plainly silly level. Robbie Porteous asks: ''Is it true there's
an Indian restaurant in a small town near Stirling called Airth, Wind and Fire?''
Turkey time
SO A wee wifey goes into her local butcher's this week to order a turkey for Christmas, and looks at the sign saying they are (pounds) 1.80 a pound. ''Did you raise them yourself?'' she asks the butcher who tells her: ''Of course I did. They were only (pounds) 1.60 a pound this morning.''
And the point of that old joke is to launch our Christmas dinner disasters competition.
Tell us what went wrong at one of your Christmas dinners and
the winner each day next week
will be sent a bottle of Drambuie and a copy of the sumptuous
new Gourmet Glasgow recipe book to ensure it will be an
awful lot better this time
around. Mail, e-mail or phone; whatever suits.
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