When I was a kid, Alan lived across the road from me, and we were best buddies. At a time when I was still listening to Cliff Richard and The Shadows, Alan turned me on to Beatlemania.
Alan and me
One year, four of us performed at the Sunday School Christmas party, miming to "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" . My hair was curly and wouldn't stay in a fringe, so my father made me a fake fringe out of black wool and elastic. He also made the two hardboard cut-out guitars, in the shape of my ukulele.
Cardboard cut-out Beatles
A year or two later, Alan became head of the sunday school, and I went to the devil. Since those days, Alan has lived a decent and worthwhile life as an activist church minister, and was last month appointed Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland (BBC announcement). For non-Scots readers, it means he's a sort of Archbishop of Scotland. Unlike him, I have wasted my talents in pointless distractions. Like this blog.Alan, if you're reading this, firstly let me congratulate you on your deserved success. Your achievements have been a great consolation to my mother for my own apparent failures. Still, I like to think I have earned a modest reputation for myself here on the UnHeard Islands, both as an amateur brewer and for my part-time work at the McDonald Institute. Not to mention my volunteer counselling work with the HNT scheme.
Alan, I know we haven't met in 30 years, but could you do me a favour, for old times' sake? Could you put a fatwa on the guy who's jamming my account with extremist religious ravings? I don't know the technical term for a Christian fatwa, but you'll know, I'm sure. I can't offer you much in return, except perhaps a special discount on communion beer.
Either way, rest assured that I have turned down all media offers of money to tell the inside story of our childhood. To tell you the truth, the relevant memory cells have died off anyway, thanks to all the bad company and bad habits.
