ON HOMECOMING

TWO months ago I bit the bullet ...

Loading Comments
Share
Print

I came back. After 20 years away from Glasgow, my home since I was eight, I finally returned.

I guess you could say it took a while.

It's something I'd been considering for some time and, finally, I've done it.

After years of visiting the city to see my family and thinking 'how is it that I don't live here?'I now do.

And it's been a revelation in many ways.

As a journalist south of the Border, many a conversation with an interviewee would end with the words "Oh, you're not putting my name in the paper, are you? I don't want that. I don't want to make a fuss. I just wanted to let you know. I'm not telling you how old I am!"

Or, after standing and talking in the street for 20 minutes, when the photo­grapher came to take their photo the person who'd willingly chatted away would back off, looking nervously at the camera shouting 'I'm not having my picture taken' and disappearing into the distance.

I've bribed Big Issue sellers, ended up with fluffy things on sticks from street traders and generally bullied, forced and cajoled people into being named in newspaper 'vox pops'. I should have known that wouldn't be needed here. Quite the opposite.

Venturing out on my first foray in Glasgow - on the eve of the Commonwealth Games - I was greeted with crowds sitting in George Square, only too happy to talk about their plans for the opening night.

Given 20 minutes to chat, I was vaguely aware that wouldn't be enough and worried how long before the search party was sent out.

Four days later, in Dalmarnack, near the Athletes' Village, I stood chatting to people in their back gardens, offering me tea and telling me their life stories. As a journalist that's not surprising, what is, is the number of people who have refused to talk so far - none. Glasgow, good on you.

I WAS running around Kilmardinny Loch, in Bearsden, the other day when I bumped into one of my dog-walking friends and we got to discussing the cygnets which were born there this year.

It appears they have a definite shelf-life in the parental home - one I wondered if I shared.

She told me the cygnets leave after a few months and head for what sounded like a swan mecca in Glasgow to find a new mate and home of their own.

"Their parents chase them out," my friend explained. "I saw it one year. The old man got up and flapped his wings and just flew at them. That was it, their time was up."

I've been living back in my childhood home - until I sell mine down south - and I had a sudden image of my dad rearing up, two months of me disrupting my parents' retired, peaceful existence and drinking his wine, finally making him snap.

Let's hope the housing market picks up for the sake of everyone's sanity.

Sport

Commenting & Moderation

We moderate all comments on Evening Times on either a pre-moderated or post-moderated basis. If you're a relatively new user then your comments will be reviewed before publication and if we know you well and trust you then your comments will be subject to moderation only if other users or the moderators believe you've broken the rules

Moderation is undertaken full-time 9am-6pm on weekdays, and on a part-time basis outwith those hours. Please be patient if your posts are not approved instantly.

177954

Have you got a story?

Contact the news desk on 0141 302 6520 or email news@eveningtimes.co.uk
Games news:

Putting the world to rights

Gail's Gab

Indyref outcome tore my heart out but the dream is not over

Times Out

Entertainment

Lifestyle

TV Advert
Janice Bell

Janice Bell

You couldn’t make up half the stuff that happens to PA Janice Bell- some of the jams she gets herself into are worth a story or two.

A weekly round up of social highlights

A weekly round up of social highlights

Cat's Eyes on Glasgow

Meet Charlie the referendum rooster who decided the result in his own unique way

Michelle McManus

Michelle McManus

Columnist Michelle McManus is Sussed in the City, and loves to chat about anything and everything.