My Ear Candy #20 Andy Duggan

I'm on a roll, that's two weeks running my guests have chosen good music on my Stoney Baloney show after weeks of sentimental guff and bog standard middle of the road snorathons (apologies previous guests but I'm not saying anything I didn't say directly to you.) This week's guest was Andy Duggan, a Stonehaven based tradesman offering DIY services to folk incapable of turning their hand to matters practical, i.e. folk like me. A nicer guy you couldn't meet (him not me) and we enjoyed a good hour's chat interspersed by his six song selections all of which were acceptable, not something we can usually claim.

Turns out he's an occasional bouncer too so not a bloke to be trifled with and he regularly DJ's at family functions and the like. Make you sick don't they these multitalented individuals. It doesn't leave much spare time when you're running three jobs though so our conversation about hobbies and interests lasted thirty seconds flat and didn't encompass much beyond watching telly. Speaking of which, I was simultaneously watching the box while broadcasting, Villa were playing Bristol City in an evening kickoff and, predictably, they did nothing to improve my mood. My football team are abysmal but I feel compelled to witness their awfulness each time they're on Sky, not for much longer though, much more of them I cannot stand.

On the way out of the building after the show I sneaked a peek at the horticulture show exhibits that had been laid out in the town hall ahead of the judges' scrutiny on Saturday morning. I've never been to a horticultural show before and it felt somewhat surreal viewing it in the dead of night in a dimly lit hall, trestle tables stretched out for yards containing all manner of flowers, foliage, fruit and veg. I was fascinated by the display and was drawn in particular to the enormous carrots, monstrous marrows and gargantuan onions, their smell thankfully overridden by the fragrant flowers that circled the room. Andy and I took one last look at the football sized cabbages and scarpered into the night, our pleasant evening ending in peculiar fashion.

Here's a link to the listen again service, its available till Sep 1st Listen Again Thanks for being a top guest Andy.

Andy's selections

Elvis Presley - Burning Love

Stevie Wonder - Higher Ground

Dre Dre - Next Episode 

Thin Lizzy - Dancing In The Moonlight

Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter

Mud - Tiger Feet

Sent from my iPad

Being Dad #3

I was persuaded this week to play Monopoly for the first time in decades, my four and nine year old boys calling my bluff when I insisted they put down the Xbox. Out from beneath the bunk bed came the dusty Birmingham edition for us to spread out upon the living room floor.

The Birmingham edition by definition contains properties from my beloved city and not the smug London capital, Hurst Street is Mayfair and Cannon Hill Park is Old Kent Road. Mercifully there's no St. Andrew's, but, and here's where the problems began, there is a Hawthorns, home of the despicable West Bromwich Albion. By rights this dump should be Old Kent Road and has no right whatsoever to reside on the stretch of pink properties just after Jail corner, but at least it was in a cheaper plot than Villa's ground. The three of us circled the board a few times, Freddie buying up the coveted Villa Park and then purchasing the second of the three pink properties, its name I forget, he now needed just The Hawthorns for the full set.

I'd accumulated a few properties, nothing fancy, the only generous income I seemed to be collecting was the booty when landing on Free Parking (do you chuck the fine money in the middle as well?)I had a few quid handy and needed to get more of a toehold on the game so when I landed on The Hawthorns my immediate reaction was to buy it and prevent Freddie from compiling a full set, this compulsion did not last long. Despite this being a modest, inconsequential board game with two young sons, I simply could not bring myself to buy The Hawthorns. Further, I couldn't bring myself even to place my piece (I had the dog) upon the property, not even to cock it's leg. Had it been any other property I'd have snaffled it then extorted a high price from Freddie so he could make up his set but I could not reduce myself to buying the damned place so I placed my dog on the carpet adjacent to that part of the board.

The game went on and Freddie duly completed his pink set, Ernie bought The Hawthorns then sold it to Fred for a song. My cash was running thin as Freddie lined up a row of houses on his strip, not before I'd landed on Villa Park a couple of times and happily paid him my rent, indeed I offered to pay triple out of respect for the property. But then it happened. Rolling a double three, I advanced from Corporation Street towards The Hawthorns and once again couldn't bring myself to place the dog on it. Freddie and Ernie remained confused at my reticence, I'd not explained my reasoning as yet, but this time they demanded an explanation. I squirmed a little before folding my arms and giving them the full unadulterated explanation as to why I was not prepared to go anywhere near that part of the board in a month of Sundays. I referred them to the ramshackled construction of the ground, it's cheap look and rotten stench, the small time nature of the club which it hosted and the revulsion I had for its supporters. They didn't seem to understand so I just kept ploughing on until finally they asked me to stop. 

Freddie demanded more money from me than I possessed in order to pay my fine for landing on his flaming Hawthorns, he had three houses on it. I told him to bog off when he suggested I mortgage properties to raise the cash and called time on the game there and then. They returned to their Xbox and I retired to bed with a cold flannel upon my forehead. Not model fathering behaviour but I'd do it again, these children need to learn standards and morals, The Hawthorns is a no go area for any self respecting Russon male.

My Ear Candy #19 Sorcha Hume

My guest on Mearns FM this week was Sorcha Hume, an inspirational woman spearheading Charlie House, an Aberdeen based charity serving children with life limiting illnesses, their families too. I met Sorcha at a BNI breakfast meeting some weeks back, she was presenting the Charlie House story and vision to a room of business people who sat transfixed, the prospect of your children facing a life threatening ailment fair concentrates the mind. The work Charlie House currently carry out is remarkable but just wait until the new facility is completed by 2020, the provision for these kids then reaches another level. See http://www.charliehouse.org.uk/for details of the wonderful work they do and better still, get involved if you can, your time and commitment is equally as valuable as any money you feel moved to contribute.

Mercifully, after a procession of recent guests choosing music that hummed of the strongest Stilton, Sorcha selected half a dozen more than agreeable tracks so for once I was able to sit back and enjoy the music with my audience and a cup of coffee. Why was I drinking coffee given my guest and her father cracked open cans of lager? Well for the same reason as I reluctantly received Sorcha's kind gift of a bottle of wine, because I'm a recovering alcoholic of thirteen years standing and didn't fancy spoiling all that hard work despite my guest's best efforts. Charming, you invite someone on to your show out of the kindness of your heart and she attempts to lead you back onto the road to oblivion which you've worked so hard to step off.

Onto the music and we began with a pleasant easy paced Jeff Buckley number, a sublime track. The pace picked up a little with Radiohead next, though perhaps not the mood given the lyrics. A couple of obscure bands followed, very good ones mind, and conversation about Charlie House and the life of Sorcha Hume continued, she's training for a 175 mile bike run with her partner Tom, I recommended a tandem, she seemed keen.

Sorcha's father accompanied her in the studio but only intermittently since he punctuated every song with a visit to the lavatory, his bladder seemingly no stronger than Aston Villa's defence, but his company was as pleasurable as his daughter's and we ended the evening with a live Led Zeppelin track of which he approved. Well I say approved but in truth it provoked a deal of controversy, they thought I'd played a tribute band's version in error but I remain adamant that it was indeed the original band. Listen for yourselves and decide, this link to our listen again function lasts till Aug 26th, pick the Stoney Baloney show Listen Again link

Sorcha's Selections

Jeff Buckley - Satisfied Mind

Radiohead - Lift

Efterklang - The Soft Beating

Bibio - A tout a l'heure 

GoGo Penguin - Hopopono 

Led Zeppelin - Ramble On

My Ear Candy #18 Naomi Mearns & Karen Falconer

The moment my two radio show guests walked/staggered through the studio door on Friday evening I knew I was in for trouble. Naomi and Karen were in from Raeburn Christie which is literally across the road from our studio, but I believe a detour was taken between their front door and ours, a boozy detour for some Dutch courage. They weren't addled by any means but a pre-show loosener appeared to have been imbibed so their demeanour was rather more relaxed than it might otherwise have been. That said, they were exemplary guests and, despite rotten musical choices, we had a thoroughly enjoyable evening.

Friday night is desert island discs night, Naomi and Karen sharing six of their favourite tracks with my listenership, the numbers of which were boosted substantially by my guests' social media prowess, we had folk tuning in from Kentucky, Poland, Majorca, Ireland...and Brechin. I won't share the Facebook comments their appearance provoked but it's fair to say the show went down a storm, particularly when our chat moved from business speak to the stuff of life. We learned a little about their respective hobbies, though only a little since beyond cooking they just seem to watch telly or cavort around their living rooms dancing to Abba. Unfortunately for the listeners, the juicy stuff comes out when the tracks are playing and we're chatting off air, the pair of them had my hair standing on end, talk about earthy! I learnt plenty about life in the fast lane and for the second week running was given a free counselling service by female guests, although they contradicted the advice given by last week's guest so I'm now in a state of utter confusion.

Their musical choices were regrettably lame, when will I get a guest who knows proper music? We started with a middle of the road Snow Patrol track, matters improved with David Christie's 'Saddle Up', although I don't believe the two of them were entirely honest when explaining the connotations as to why this was the office anthem. The Black Eyed Peas were next then Michael Jackson restored order with 'Thriller' before I vetoed the playing of Bruno Mars in favour of a track by The Beat which Naomi endorsed given her leanings towards 80s ska. AC/DC closed the show with a bit of energy and we buggered off to The Market Bar which is where I last saw them. I didn't buy the paper on Saturday morning but I wouldn't be surprised if they featured, it looked like they were limbering up for a big night out.

Thanks so much Naomi and Karen for being terrific sports, you're welcome back anytime and perhaps during your next appearance we'll get the true story behind the office anthem 'Saddle Up'?

Naomi & Karen's Selections

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Saddle Up - David Christie

I Gotta Feeling - Black Eyed Peas

Thriller - Michael Jackson

Hands Off She's Mine - The Beat

Long Way To The Top - AC/DC 

Sent from my iPad

God's way not my way #1

I was painting a friend's garden fence this week, I'm out of work and was returning a favour for a favour, he's been very kind to me during a time of trial. This blinkin fence is enormous and the task is similar to painting the Forth Road Bridge, there are however a couple of shortcuts I've identified which can speed the job up. First, don't bother scraping off the thin film of weathering which covers plain timber beneath, just paint over it, and second, leave the awkward and non visible nooks and crannies unpainted, on both counts no-one will ever know. But to do this would be to execute a substandard job and the fence would remain unprotected in parts, less well protected in general, so I've diligently completed the task properly. Why tell you this? Well because it's a lesson in life I thought worth sharing, a reminder to me of a scripture I'm attempting to obey rather than pass over, although in one respect the recording here of my efforts completely contradicts this teaching but hey ho, the intention is honourable and God forgives me!

There's a passage in Matthew 6:1-6 link to Matthew 6:1-6 whereJesus challenges those who deliver long, flowery prayers in front of an audience and explains instead that the way to pray is alone in your room. No audience to acclaim your performance or wisdom, simply you and your maker. Similarly, your random acts of kindness aren't meant to be listed on a bill poster in the nearest town centre, humility would have you keep this between you and God. How tempting it is to buy a loud hailer when you do a good turn for somebody or offer a kindness with no expectation of reward, but we're asked to demonstrate modest humility not boastfulness. None of this is easy and opposes the human condition, we like to be liked, but just as presenting a gift to someone is as fulfilling, if not more so, than receiving one, our prayers in solitude and our unheralded acts of kindness are blessings from God, blessings to be enjoyed between you and Him, and his delight in you is worth so much more than anyone else's.

Being Dad #2

When I was a kid my father would, very occasionally, play football with my brother and I in the back garden. This would last ten minutes tops and be terminated by my Dad heaving the ball into next door's garden at which point he'd disappear back into the house while Stu scrambled through the narrow gap in the hedge to retrieve it. I remember feeling delighted that Dad played football with us but deflated when he ended it so soon. He gave himself to us, but, not wholeheartedly, we'd just get scraps of his time here and there, never for long.

I'm a father of young boys now and it's my turn to be harangued into the garden to deliver tame shots to gleeful goalkeepers but I commit to staying out there. I remember my Dad's approach too well, his eagerness for the final whistle, his impatient desperation to return to the hutch, so I try to be different. Your kids want your time, as much of it as possible, so while taking limp pot shots at a four year old goalkeeper might not get your sporting juices flowing, it's an invaluable period to the little man in between the sticks who simply wants to be with you.

The three of us (me, Freddie 9, Ernie 4) ambled up to the school playing fields on Saturday for a more expansive game than the titchy back garden would allow. Know the best part? It was the walk from the house to the fields, we held hands all the way, these moments will disappear before you know it, you've got to cherish them. Once at the pitch we managed to play two games of 'three and in' simultaneously. Using the tall wire mesh fence, we marked out two goals side by side, Fred protecting a standard sized goal while Ernie guarded a goal no more than eight feet wide. I had two footballs to shoot with; a proper caser for Freddie and a plastic Superman motiffed floaty thing for Ernie. I soon got confused. The idea was to strike firm shots at Fred and chip floaters at Ernie, unfortunately I got mixed up and drilled a pile driver at Ernie narrowly missing his head, it was at that moment he decided it was my turn to go in goal.

We stayed at the pitch for as long as the boys wanted us to. Yes I glanced at my watch and okay I was getting hungry but we stayed together on that pitch until they decided we'd move on. We walked slowly to the shop, no hurry, we talked about this, that and the next thing, all things inconsequential, but revelled in each other's company. We drifted slowly back home, again no hurry, stopping to hurl stones into the river and to smell the roses. It was blissful, I loved it and they did too. Why? Time, that's why, we shared unhurried, aimless time. This is what I'm learning in fatherhood, the value and importance simply of time! Time gentleman please, no not for last orders, for your children.

My Ear Candy #17 - Allison Stewart

I've had some wicked guests since I started my Stoney Baloney show a year or so ago, people from different walks of life, each with a fascinating tale to tell. This week I hit the jackpot, arise Dame Allison Stewart of Alli-Baba Cakes, the first guest I've had bearing gifts and providing an off-air counselling service while her tracks were being played, top bins. 

I'd been warned not to expect to get a word in edge ways and in this respect was not disappointed. My Granny knew how to blether God bless her but she was a mute in comparison to Allison who is of gold medal standard, indeed it was an achievement to cram her six songs in within the allotted time. And what did we glean about Allison's life? Well, she started out in Falkirk, moved with her family to the Middle East then alighted in Aberdeenshire, currently residing  in Newtonhill although she is planning to move closer to her business in Laurencekirk. That's the boring stuff out the way, the juicy stuff came when we got into her love life, or lack thereof. Despite being a prize catch, her luck with men has been akin to mine with the National Lottery and she candidly described her low point as the three hour date with a bloke who proceeded to spend the entire time talking about concrete. I'm no Romeo but if I'd have been in his shoes I might have been tempted to move the conversation on a little from the rudiments of concrete setting, he didn't feel it prudent so to do however. That said, Allison's confession that she'd taken her two pet dogs along to this first date so she could walk them thereby 'killing two birds with one stone' suggested that her approach to first dates could be sharpened a little too.

I ain't goin into detail because you never know who's reading this blog but Allison's counselling of me while her songs were spinning was much appreciated. What a woman, said all the things I needed to hear, tough love delivered with beautiful cake, a fine combination. Once her cake empire is fully fledged a career in counselling awaits, meantime Mearns FM is in negotiation with her agent regards her becoming an on air Agony Aunt but so far these have stalled because she's insisting her dogs come too.

Allison's song selections ranged from good to awful with an overall standard of meh. Any Oasis choice is okay by me but Gabrielle and Pink are barely forgivable, the full list is below. Thanks very much for being a terrific guest Allison, for those that missed it this link here is valid till August 12th, just choose Stoney Baloney Listen Again link

Allison's Selections

Stevie Wonder - Isn't She Lovely

Gabrielle - Sunshine

Wham - Club Tropicana

Pink - Rockstar

Oasis - Live Forever

Chumbawumba - Tubthumping

Being Dad #1

That's me back and reunited with my children after two weeks solitude in Florida. Kids are a blessing to us but I'm changing my approach having had a fortnight to think things over, I'm gonna try and be a blessing to them.

Sounds boastful doesn't it, maybe a touch arrogant claiming to be a blessing to your children? Well yes it would if you claimed such haughty status but not if you're simply acknowledging it as an aspiration. Ask any father what his priorities in life are and top of the list would be safety and security for his children, but what is he, what am I, doing about it? How am I contributing positively to the welfare of the children that rank number one in my priorities? This is the question two weeks of naval gazing has coughed up and I'm delighted that it did because just as a malady can only be corrected when diagnosed, so relationships can only be strengthened once you've spotted a deficiency. Hands up, I've not been a great Dad, I've been an adequate one but who wants adequacy when you can have splendor? It's time to step up and I'm excited about the journey ahead, the next step is working out where to start.

For guidance on fatherhood I can think of no better book than the bible to seek discernment, God after all is the father, the son and the Holy Spirit so if he can't assist then heaven help me. I don't know if you've heard of this 'bible' of which I speak but to give you a bit of background, it's the world's biggest selling book with 5 billion having been printed, don't take my word for it see this Guinness Book Of Records link 5 billion bibles . To my mind, if the bible is God breathed and God is our father, it seems a sensible place to start when establishing what it takes to be a good Dad. I haven't read it all, you try ploughing through the Old Testament without snoring, but with the cheeky use of a study bible I can offer myself a couple of insights and you too if being a better Dad is something you find attractive.

1. Time
Presents are nice, so are other random acts of generosity and all round niceness but what kids want most of all is your time and attention. They want to be in your company, receiving your undivided, not always possible but I can certainly make it happen a lot more than I have previously. In my language that means I need to spend time with my laptop closed, my phone on silent and quit the mindless channel hopping on the telly. My children deserve eye to eye, shoulder to shoulder, father to child one on one attention, your child wants your time.

2. Patience
Hmm, not good at patience in the modern world are we? Stresses of work, troublesome relationships, all manner of competing demands for our time, it leads to short fuses and short tempers. So when you get home and the kids are clamoring for your attention and you're not up for it, why not take a breath and decide to BE up for it! Have patience. Pull up on the driveway, turn off the engine and before you climb out of the car have a word with yourself. After hours apart you're returning to the arms of the children you chose to bring into your life, they'll pull at your trouser legs, gabble questions ten to the dozen and it'll be a whirlwind of an entrance but be patient, they're thrilled to see their Dad, you're special to them, count to ten, enjoy and embrace them.

3. Respect
Here's one I'm constantly having to work on, respect. When you're the all knowing, all powerful father figure, what you say goes, kids have to suck it up, but that doesn't mean you can throw your weight around as if the family home is your fiefdom in which you steamroller all-comers. My children have opinions, desires, wants and needs, they deserve to be listened to, fatherhood isn't just a case of delivering demands and decrees, catch yourself on, a good role model isn't an authoritarian, yes there there are times when order needs restoring but don't let that be your trump card in all situations. The time and patience you show your kids can be wrapped up in the respect that you show them.

I don't have all the answers, all I've got are the questions, the stuff I share above is purely the result of investigations made by an ordinary Joe seeking to be a better Dad and not the ramblings of a big heided, ken it 'a. I'm just like you, I wanna be a good Dad, it's there for us if we want it!