Frank Owen
Well-known member
By all means scroll on if this isn't your thing.
So, I'm on my todd as Aphrodite has gone out to meet our two lassies for a girlie catch up. Did my usual boring routine; a work out early doors, followed by a couple of hours in the mancave reading and listening to a couple of albums.
My thoughts drifted back to Saturday night at Kelvingrove Bandstand. If there's anyone who's not familiar with it, then, just imagine a kind of Greek amphitheater, but without the sunshine, and and it's well, kinda like that.
We decided to get there early as the last time we found ourselves too far from the stage. It was Dr Hook that night. We also came better prepared with a couple of matts to put down on the haemorrhoid-inducing steps.
It worked out perfectly. Terrific spot to watch 10cc.... and the gathering of folk anticipating a good, if brief, night out.
Being that it was early, the 'revellers' hadn't had time to indulge in their tipple of choice enough to loosen off the handbrake on their inhibitions. All was very sedate and civilised.
However, as the night progressed, the reserved, almost detached manner of the majority of those present was kicked into touch and replaced with a gathering of folk who were comfortable in their own skin, and were out to enjoy themselves.
Ageing Glaswegian men ? I'm not too sure if there's a typical weegie man. Probably most folk would argue that there is.
I could well imagine some of those 'mature' males in their younger days; driven by an overload of testosterone, terrorising The Locarno, The Flamingo, Joanna's or their local Disco. Here they were though, showing the wear and tear that time sooner or later bestows on all of us. Some follically challenged, some with a thick barnet.
Age evident in many, not so much in others; but all of them perfectly comfortable surrendering the crazy things of their youth. Nothing left for them to prove; just happy to still be here!
Ageing Glaswegian woman ? Naw, I'm not goin' there ! Suffice to say we as males are indeed blessed. Looking around me on the night I could apply many of the same tenets routinely applied to any ageing mortal, male or female. Woman though, are quite simply impossible to pigeon hole.
Again looking around me, I saw many woman who obviously showed the tell-tale signs that they had lived a fair number of years. Not only have they lived a life, though; they, at least most of them, have given life. Mother: the most important word the human tongue can speak.
I looked at some of the woman sitting around us; obviously many of them would have been blessed with great beauty in their prime. Thing is, though, that kind of beauty is superficial and short lived. A beautiful spirit beats a beautiful body any time. You can't see it, hear it, touch it; but you know, like the air we breath, that it's there, and it's constant. Every silver thread in a woman's hair, every time she smiles to reveal the crow's feet around her eyes is a time for us mere males to be thankful.
So, what of the night as a whole? Wonderful really. It was pleasure to be part of that gathering of gyrating geriatric Glaswegian time travellers. Folk of different backgrounds, different opinions, different politics....aye even different fitba teams. Just enjoying that fleeting couple of hours lapping up what was a brilliant performance from 10cc. Even the Bats cavorting in the night sky above us seemed to be twisting and turning in time with the brilliant drumming of Paul Burgess.
I think 10cc summed folk up perfectly...... Life Is a Ministrone.
So, I'm on my todd as Aphrodite has gone out to meet our two lassies for a girlie catch up. Did my usual boring routine; a work out early doors, followed by a couple of hours in the mancave reading and listening to a couple of albums.
My thoughts drifted back to Saturday night at Kelvingrove Bandstand. If there's anyone who's not familiar with it, then, just imagine a kind of Greek amphitheater, but without the sunshine, and and it's well, kinda like that.
We decided to get there early as the last time we found ourselves too far from the stage. It was Dr Hook that night. We also came better prepared with a couple of matts to put down on the haemorrhoid-inducing steps.
It worked out perfectly. Terrific spot to watch 10cc.... and the gathering of folk anticipating a good, if brief, night out.
Being that it was early, the 'revellers' hadn't had time to indulge in their tipple of choice enough to loosen off the handbrake on their inhibitions. All was very sedate and civilised.
However, as the night progressed, the reserved, almost detached manner of the majority of those present was kicked into touch and replaced with a gathering of folk who were comfortable in their own skin, and were out to enjoy themselves.
Ageing Glaswegian men ? I'm not too sure if there's a typical weegie man. Probably most folk would argue that there is.
I could well imagine some of those 'mature' males in their younger days; driven by an overload of testosterone, terrorising The Locarno, The Flamingo, Joanna's or their local Disco. Here they were though, showing the wear and tear that time sooner or later bestows on all of us. Some follically challenged, some with a thick barnet.
Age evident in many, not so much in others; but all of them perfectly comfortable surrendering the crazy things of their youth. Nothing left for them to prove; just happy to still be here!
Ageing Glaswegian woman ? Naw, I'm not goin' there ! Suffice to say we as males are indeed blessed. Looking around me on the night I could apply many of the same tenets routinely applied to any ageing mortal, male or female. Woman though, are quite simply impossible to pigeon hole.
Again looking around me, I saw many woman who obviously showed the tell-tale signs that they had lived a fair number of years. Not only have they lived a life, though; they, at least most of them, have given life. Mother: the most important word the human tongue can speak.
I looked at some of the woman sitting around us; obviously many of them would have been blessed with great beauty in their prime. Thing is, though, that kind of beauty is superficial and short lived. A beautiful spirit beats a beautiful body any time. You can't see it, hear it, touch it; but you know, like the air we breath, that it's there, and it's constant. Every silver thread in a woman's hair, every time she smiles to reveal the crow's feet around her eyes is a time for us mere males to be thankful.
So, what of the night as a whole? Wonderful really. It was pleasure to be part of that gathering of gyrating geriatric Glaswegian time travellers. Folk of different backgrounds, different opinions, different politics....aye even different fitba teams. Just enjoying that fleeting couple of hours lapping up what was a brilliant performance from 10cc. Even the Bats cavorting in the night sky above us seemed to be twisting and turning in time with the brilliant drumming of Paul Burgess.
I think 10cc summed folk up perfectly...... Life Is a Ministrone.
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