My Ear Candy #1 - Cllr George Carr

My 'Ear Candy' slot was launched on Mearns FM last week,  Councillor George Carr kindly sharing his six favourite tracks with my ever burgeoning listenership. George was a top bloke, easy company and a great conversationalist but I’ve learned an early lesson regards my ongoing musical street cred; if you let guests choose the music beware of cheese on a mighty scale.

George's opening selection called upon what I believe to be Mearns FM’s first ever exorcism, he chose ELO’s Mr Blue Sky, a cracking tune don’t get me wrong but also the music that Birmingham bleedin' City run out to before kick-off. The only way I was prepared to play this track was if it was bookended by thirty seconds of the music Villa run out to so I played Hurricane Smith’s ‘Theme From An Unmade Silent Movie’ either side. Next up was a pleasant Eighties dance/funk affair, so far so good, but it was downhill from there and I can confirm with some degree of confidence that I’ll never again close a show spinning Boney M’s ‘Rasputin’.

But the show is about the chat really and George was great value with tales of his life in local politics, the scouting movement, his grass specialism (lawns not smokes) and fireball swinging. He, rightly, had short shrift for my father getting whacked on the back by a fireball in ’83 when attempting to cross the high street ten minutes into the New Year and the enjoyment George had experienced in travelling the UK with the scouts was inspiring to hear. Thanks George, you're welcome any time.

Next up is Catherine MacDonald, a Stoney girl of my era so here’s hoping the sounds will be up to scratch this Friday. If not we can just reminisce over the glorious Commy nights.

George Carr’s selections.

1.       ELO – Mr Blue Sky

2.       Sheila B Devotion – Spacer

3.       Bruno Mars – Uptown Funk

4.       Maroon 5 - Tickets

5.       Rockwell – Somebody’s Watching You

6.    Boney M - Rasputin

Willie Donald SGC

(Sorry I missed your hair off Willie but there wasn't room if i was to fit in your beard!)

Well it was a pleasant send-off for Willie Donald at Fetteresso Church this week . Willie’s life clearly touched those of many given the numbers that turned out for him, the majority being fellow Stonehaven Golf Club members with friends from the bowling club and masonic lodge too. This was the opposite to a private family funeral and instead was a heartening reminder of how widely revered Willie was during his 73 years.

I respected Willie hugely and I’m confident  all those sat around me at Fetteresso Church on Thursday did too. He wasn’t much of a socialite or party raver, he was a steady eddie with a strong sense of duty to the community in which he lived, a super, reliable bloke. 

My fondest memories of him regard the encouragement he would give us as junior members in the early eighties. While many members walked on by without a word, Willie would always shuffle over for a brief chat then saunter away again serenaded by the jangling collection of keys that hung from his belt strap. He'd look like a jailer who’d forgotten his uniform. He wanted to encourage us, to welcome us to the club, he appreciated that a golf club only thrives when bringing through a conveyor belt of juniors and making sure those juniors build a genuine affinity to their local club. He would let you know if he felt you were out of line, those not repairing divots, leaving bunkers unraked or throwing clubs in fury were gently reprimanded but always  in a fashion that left you told, not humiliated.

Quite who can follow this man as the unofficial custodian of Stonehaven Golf Club I don’t know. There are several people equally as committed but you’d take decades to replicate the service that Willie devoted to his beloved club and he was such a unique character, irreplaceable really. His final weeks were difficult for him but spent right where he wished to be, in Stonehaven with a procession of welcome visitors around him. It’s people like Willie that restore any faith you might have been losing in humankind, a thoroughly decent, faithful and trustworthy chap who will be genuinely sadly missed.

No show Lenny

I presented my radio show (ooh get me!) for the third time last night. Another thirty three attempts and I might finally find the route around those damned faders, knobs, bells and whistles. It's like operating the Star Trek Enterprise console, instead of negotiating a spaceship through outer space though I'm trying to stave off that vilest of enemies; dead air.

A second of dead air feels like an hour, ten seconds a lifetime. The golden rule is to keep those airwaves occupied with music or talk, preferably good music and entertaining talk. I can't promise the latter but guarantee the former, my record collection officially classed as the greatest in the world. Last night I managed to minimise air of a dead variety however crashed a couple of tracks into one another, introduced songs incorrectly and bored listeners to death about Aston Villa. Still, it's my show, my rules, so there.

The studio is wicked (and I use that word simply to confirm that I'm indeed down with the kids). Moody lighting, warm atmosphere, an endless music library from which the most obscure track can be sourced. It's a thrill to have a million songs at your fingertips, to have the ability to pluck anything off the shelf and play it within seconds. I'm not sure listeners are enthralled when I spin a Wedding Present b-side but I view this as an educational public service to the good folk of the Mearns, and I don't even charge.

I'm kicking off a new slot next Friday called 'My Ear Candy', where special guests play us their favourite five tracks and tell us about themselves. It was due to start last night but my intended guest backed out via text as I was presenting the show. If you're reading this Lenny, you owe me bigtime sunshine, I had egg all over my face having to explain that my special guest would sooner pick up his wife from Laurencekirk train station than appear on my fledgling show. I've a mind to give you a damned good hiding but given I'm suffering with a bad back I'll let you off this time if you promise not to bail out like that again. I'm posting a pic of this man here (see above). If you encounter this individual feel free to pelt him with rotten fruit and boo him all the way to his front door.

Lording it up in Inverness

I'm 47 and last night I hosteled for only the second time in my life. Teenage Fanclub were playing in Inverness and I needed somewhere inexpensive to kip afterwards, it's preferable to falling asleep at the wheel driving back to Aberdeen.

Last time I stayed at a traveller's hostel was 1993 on my stag weekend in York. I remember nothing about it. This time I was able to soberly absorb the glory of hosteling and while possibly catching nits, found it a thoroughly pleasurable experience. The dormitory was shared by ten of us and was indeed grotesque, the bedclothes were minging, but in every other respect my stay was a delight. No prissy corporate welcome from a uniformed receptionist, instead a warm welcome from a heavily tattooed, black vested rocker who took my fourteen quid and exchanged my driving licence deposit for the room key. I dumped my gear, went to the gig, shuffled back and crashed for the night.

In the morning I chatted with a young Australian traveller in a communal lounge replete with flat screen telly, Netflix, wifi, guitar, books and Monopoly. Her travel log was fascinating, I departed inspired, with an only slightly dented bank balance and a dose of nits but these seemed a price worth paying. Up yours Premier Inn.

75 reasons to carry on

Stonehaven Golf Club is trialling a new course layout during the winter whereby the eighteen holes will be played in a different order. For those familiar with the course, you play the first four holes then the gully, then the field, then 5th-8th before playing the last three. I like it. The gruelling gully comes early in the round while you've still got some energy and since I broke my handicap with an imperious 75 in my first trial, I'm all for it. I vote Yes.