Living In Different Worlds

Time, place. Experience. Sometimes its the seismic events of history that make me wonder if I really am of this world. Sometimes major events come and go and don't really affect me directly as much as I think it should.

There has been 2 huge historical events that have taken place in my lifetime. I wasn't born when man first stepped on the moon but I do remember the late evening tv pictures of 9th of November 1989. The fall of the Wall wasn't that spectacular. All you saw was a bunch of leather jacketed Berliners attacking reinforced concrete - mostly with hammers, with little success (although I bet you can buy those chippings on Ebay today). Nobody died, as far I remember. A lot of people got drunk, and stoned (d'oh bad pun). The wall itself wasn't an impressive structure. It wasn't even particular tall or especially forbidding. Its real power lay in the killing ground of mines, dog runs and razor wire behind it.

The concrete barrier was always more symbolic than anything else. It didn't matter that none of the crowds of scrambling people could do much damage to it without the help of some heavy equipment. What mattered was that they were climbing all over it, and hitting it ineffectually without getting machine gunned to oblivion. As a sudden and surprising symbol of hope and optimism and moment of time representing changing times those watching it could ask for no more. Those little hammers that couldn't do much damage to concrete had somehow on that night managed to put an end to an age of idiocy. A 40 year threat of worldwide nuclear holocaust seemed to evaporate that night.

I remember watching those tv pictures. I remember the hope and joy. But at the end of the day it didn't really affect me in the way I thought it would go on to. I was too young at the time. Too young perhaps to feel threatened by a possible looming Armageddon. It didn't feel real enough. I have never lived in a communist country, so I didn't feel get to feel any restrictions being lifted. The closest I've been to living in a divided city was in Glasgow on the day of Celtic - Rangers game, hardly the same thing.

So when the Wall fell I just went on living my life pretty much as I always had, albeit in a Europe with the map redrawn.

A dozen years went by from the day of the fall of the Wall before something as big happened again. This time it wasn't a chilly November night that brought hope but a bright September morning that brought shock and fear. The planes crashing into the Twin Towers in 2001 was just as unbelievable as the pictures of men clambering on the Wall with arms aloft.

For a while on that terrible Tuesday I was even afraid. I was in Scotland that day, but my mother had went abroad for the first time in her life that weekend. She was visiting her best friend who had moved to New York over 20 years previously. She had called me on Sunday from New York and had told me that she was going to visit the Towers on the upcoming Saturday. When I saw those aeroplanes crashing into the Tower my first thought was that maybe she had decided to change that day trip and brought it forward by a few days. The panic that came over me was horrible. I had no telephone number for where she was staying and couldn't get in touch with her. But whereas the whole world seemed to know what had happened that day, she was resting at her friend's holiday home situated on the banks of the Finger Lakes with no tv, no telephone or radio completely unaware what was happening just miles away. When she finally did get to hear of it and get a chance to call me my panic was replaced with a selfish relief.

After that although al-Qaida had attacked the USA I didn't think that I was personally living in a more dangerous world. I had lived in the UK when the IRA had bombed buildings in a regular basis. I wasn't one of those soldiers who had to go to War. I wasn't one of the grieving parents who had to suffer when their son was brought home in a box. I didn't believe in the war in Iraq but neither was I one of those who marched in the streets against it because I ultimately knew it wouldn't change the politicians minds. I didn't feel threatened by Muslims. There have always been extremists of one kind or another, and none of them have ever really affected my life directly.

When I remember the pictures of the Wall falling I remember happy times, I would have loved to have there that night but ultimately I wasn't, perhaps as a result I don't really feel that they had as a powerful effect on my life that it could and should have.

Strangely, as big as the fall of the Wall and the fall of the Twin Towers were as moments of the history of our time, it was the probably the collapse of the banks and markets beginning on September 2008 that had a bigger more direct impact on my life. Is that selfish? Do I really need to be a part of something to feel it? Am I really part of this thing we call the human race?

Listening to: Call Me Anytime - The Cops

Why I Couldn't Be A Conservative In The USA Reason # 1

As I'm not a citizen no one in the USA is going to invite me to vote but that's not a good enough reason not to have a mini series of blog posts.

Back home in Scotland I was very much of two minds politically. I liked the idea of an independent Scotland but wasn't entirely sure that enough people were going to vote for it in order for it not to be a wasted vote. I am also not entirely sure that Scotland could be strong enough economically for the first 5 - 10 years after breaking itself off from the UK to have something to build from thereafter. Perhaps when there was still oil in the North Sea back in the 70's it would have been good but now? I just don't know.

I also believe in a government that has low taxation and minimum government interference in the lives of the citizens that it serves. So although I hated Thatcher when she was in power I was pretty much a conservative at heart, and just could never see myself voting labour when they seem to be control freaks and have acres of government at every level. Plus its probably not helped by the fact that Blair was someone I despised more than even Thatcher.

Now you may think that with my earlier statement of believing that a government should have minimum interference in the lives of the citizens it serves and my preference for low taxation that I would be as much as a conservative here as much as I was back home. But conservatism here is a different beast. And for that reason alone I think it could make a semi-decent mini series for this blog while I get back my blogging groove.

Reason # 1

Conservatives in the USA seem to believe with more enthusiasm than liberals in the right of the people to keep and bear arms.

I'm not going to make any pretense that I am tough Scotsman. Guns scare me. I don't want to be anywhere near them.

In addition to that I don't want to read any more stories of kids accidentally shooting their siblings when they get hold of their father's loaded gun that was supposed to be locked away in a cupboard. I don't want to want to read of cults in Texas being armed to the teeth and shooting FBI officers. I don't want my step children to be scared of going to school because other kids are carrying guns in their backpacks along with their books. I don't want to step into a 7/11 in the middle of the night to buy a bag of Swedish Fish and have some drugged up wannabe Jesse James flashing a gun barrel between my eyes - with all the Mexican food I eat I'm likely to shit myself there and then.

Back in the day when the USA was a new country I could understand the need for people to have the right and the need to bear arms. It was a dangerous world. Native Americans didn't exactly like the idea of the white man moving in on their land. Criminals from Europe saw America as the land of opportunity and would happily steal the land from underneath your feet. As would some crooked businessmen who might want your land to sell it onto the railroad or just to build a ranch. Back in those days the local sheriff might be too far away or just not powerful enough to save your sorry ass. Therefore a good man at the birth of this country may have been expected to carry a gun in order to protect his family.

Now though we live in different times, the USA as so many levels of police that it should be a safer country in which to live. I suspect it would be safer still if it wasn't so easy for gangs and desperate junkies to be able to get a hold of guns from legal and illegal sources.

Back home I felt if I was unlucky enough to come across a ned with a knife nicked from his mothers kitchen that I could have the chance of outrunning him before any damage was done, its not see easy to outrun a bullet. Maybe if the Bill of Rights was amended and the antiquated belief that the people have the right to bear arms was reassessed and something was done about the number of guns freely available in this country I could feel safe eating Mexican food before visiting a 7/11.


Listening to: Sean Kingston - Me love

Ah Gringos! Given time I might grow to love them.

As Scottish accents go I never really considered myself to have a particular thick one, but since spending the last 8 months or so living here in the States I'm finding myself having to reassess that assumption. It seems the gringos just can't understand me.

That I could find acceptable if they'd only just try - but whereas Latinos will take the effort to listen and on occasion make an attempt to have conversation like the Mexican worker who the other day took my order for a Whopper and ended up talking about the weather here compared to back home and the film Braveheart it seems most white people in these parts would prefer to cut me off and look at me blank faced as soon as I open my mouth. When I first moved here it didn't take long for me to get used to the close minded attitude of some of the local white population but then just the other week I applied for a job that I was well qualified for. I first sent of an email complete with my resume and then followed it up with a phonecall.

Me - "Hello, I am replying to your advert on ...... regarding the job that you ....."

Interupted mid conversation with "I can't even understand you! If you can't speak English why do you think I would even consider employing you!!!"

When I first came to Utah I thought it might take an adjustment of sorts to fit in and settle down and then reality struck.

I hate to imagine how I might have got on in Utah if I actually had a thick Scottish accent. Like if had a nasally accent like a Glasgow ned for example or a sing-songy West Highland accent or god forbid a Welsh accent like some of my relatives from my father's side of the family.

"Hearts Aren't Made Of Glass"

I've seen my fair share of graffitti whilst having to relieve myself in public restrooms. I can't speak for the ladies but in the gents toilets the graffitti itself isn't all that charming it usually consists of obsenities or telephone numbers scratched into whatever surface is available (presumedly with the help of a key, coin or knife blade) along with whatever sexual service they are willing to provide the occupant of the cubicle.

However Library toilets seem to have a higher class of 'artist'.

I love It When She Answers Her Own Questions

"You know what sounds good right now? I don't know. Something yummy!"

Listening to: The wife, in bed

Sometimes Even "I Told You So' Is Too Much

Remember a few years ago the woman who became the oldest new mother at the age of 66?

Well a strange thing happened on Saturday, she died, at the age of 69.

I have nothing else to say.

What A Weekend!

This weekend sucked pretty much.

On the run up to it we were both looking forward to having some well deserved quality time together. It was going to be good.

Sometimes though life seems to like to kick us in the teeth. This weekend was one of those times. After the bills were paid off on Friday we had a little bit less money than we had realised. What was left over wasn't going to buy what we needed for the rest of the week. Horrible times. Lots of stress, frustration resulted in a whole lot of stubbornness for two people who can be too much alike at times. The only solution I saw to the whole horrible situation was to swallow my pride and do something that in normal circumstances I would never want to do. Which made neither of us happy. This solution to our unfortunate situation meant that for the two days we had been looking forward to so much we barely saw one another and had none of the good times we had been dreaming of.

By Sunday though things had improved enough of an extent that we could at least spend some quality time together without the stress of the previous two days. The sun was shining. We had 50 minutes to ourselves, a beautiful field of wheat, a quiet road and a moment where I almost got to convince her to jump on in the car. It was such a beautiful moment I almost want to get this picture blown up and put on the wall as a keepsake.


If only that speeding motorist hadn't come round the corner at that moment, waving his finger, it might have been an even nicer memory.

Ah well, in this car I don't think there would have been much left to the imagination what we were up to.

When Sporting Idols Were Human

Today when Real Madrid can spend 80 million pounds on a Portuguese footballer and 56 million on another Brazilian and can afford to pay them weekly wages on top that most of us can't dream of in a lifetime of working its almost hard to imagine that sport didn't always have such superstars. In sport there has always been athletes that have excelled above the rest but not all got the lifestyle that today's top athletes can expect.


I was just reading the story behind a new song written by Blair Douglas, a founding member of Runrig, the song is about a man named Giovanni "Johnny" Moscardini, who though born in Scotland in 1897 who went on to have a successful football career in Italy during the 20s and 30s. He became the top scorer for his club Pisa, before playing for the Italian national team where he was capped 9 times only to give it all up to help run his Uncle's ice cream shop back in Scotland. Somehow I just don't see Ronaldo or Kaka doing likewise. They might well send a cheque back home to a relative that needed some help but I doubt they'd be willing to give up their priviliged lifestyle to physically help the family business.

Yet sporting history is littered with interesting stories. Around the same time when Giovanni was playing football for Italy a Scottish runner was refusing to run his best event at the 1924 Olympics, the 100 meters, because it clashed with his religious beliefs. The heats were to be run on a Sunday so Eric Liddell, a devout protestant, felt that with it being the day of the Sabbath he could not compete. Instead he decided to train for the 400 meters, another event he was good at but was only expected to come 3rd in. A lot of today's 100 meter sprinters will double up on the 200 meters but it takes a special athlete to be able to compete at both 100 and 400 meters such is the differences in the discipline of the two events.

As it turned out, he not only won the race but set a new world record.


After his athletics career was over he continued his Missionary work in China, staying on to carry his work in 1941 when the British government advice was to leave due to the war between China & Japan. The Japanese later overtook the mission station with its members interned at the Weifang Internment Camp. Liddell died of a brain tumour hastened by malnourishment and overwork in 1945, months before the Japanese surrended. An unfortunate end for a man that was so admired by his peers for not only his athletic ability but for the man he was.

Its not only the athletes of the distant past that have interesting life stories, more recent athletes have done so as well. Take the story of amateur Scottish cyclist Graham Obree. When his bike shop failed with the burden of bad debts he decided that the way out of his problems was to beat the World hour velodrome record which had stood for 9 years. Unlike his English rival, Chris Boardman, who had access to the help of the UK Olympic team for coaching and sponsorship as well as custom made carbon fibre superbikes thanks to the backing of Lotus, Graham had to not only design his own training regime but build his own bike from left over stock from his shop and parts from an old washing machine.

The bike he subsequently designed had an unusual riding position, which he later became famous for, because not only was it aerodynamic but also because it allowed him to put more pressure on the pedals allowing him to get up to speed without the need for standing up. On his first attempt at the record he failed but he had booked the track for 24 hours so decided to come back early next morning to try again. In order to prevent his body from seizing up while he slept, he made himself drink pint after pint of water so that he would have to wake up every two hours for toilet trips which allowed him to stretch his muscles. With so much punishment on his body it should have been a waste of time even going back on track. The day before he had been fresh and had failed the old record by a kilometer, but this time the effort was not in vain and he beat the record by over 400 meters.


At a time when most professional cyclists seemed to be ruining the sport by competing with the aid of illegal drugs the World governing cycling body (the UCI) seemed to be more concerned that the evolution of the bicycle was making it possible for a disproportionate improvement to track records. So they banned the unusual elbows tucked in riding position that Graham had used to set his record, which meant that this necessitated the need for a new bike to be designed and built if he was to continue racing after Chris Boardman broke it a week after he had set it.

His new bike had yet another unusual riding position, later to be named the Superman position because of the way his arms were outstretched in front of him as he rode. He used this new bike to win the World Championship pursuit.

Not bad for someone who had to get over bouts of depression, which at times in his life was so severe that he had tried to kill himself not once but twice. The first time as a child when he was only saved by the luck of his father getting off of work unusually early and once as an adult after his brother died of a car crash, this time being saved by a woman who was checking out a barn.

To me its unusual stories like that can make Sport so much more interesting than impressive skills and crazy income levels and the building of expensive superteams such as Real Madrid.

Watch Out Guys, Thanks To Some Clever Boffins We Might Just Have Become A Little Bit Less Useful

Apparently a team of scientists in England have claimed that they can make sperm from stem cells. This may be bad news for us guys because producing sperm by the gazillion was one of the few things that we were exclusively good at, for no good reason other than we could. If we aren't required for that in future what will we be needed for?

But seriously, what were they thinking? There are at least 5 billion people on this planet, maybe closer to 6 or 7 (sorry I haven't been counting and too lazy to get my facts straight), even if less than half of those were sperm producing males that makes up a lot xy and xx chromosomes swimming about. That's not even including those being kept at optimum temperature in the fridges of Sperm Banks. So my question is - why? Yeth I know that there are a lot of people out there wanting babies that can't have them because the guy in the relationship is struggling to do his bit, because his swimmers just don't seem interested but really I hardly think that the world has a shortage of usable sperm. Maybe there is a reason that men are getting less fertile as time goes by, it might well just have been predesigned in our make up that as our numbers grew we were diluting our reproductive abilities so that 7 billion didn't quickly become 27 billion.

I don't want to be seen to belittle the issue of infertile men but with all the current sources of spermatozoa alternatives could these boffins not have put some research into something more useful and necessary, like I don't know perhaps increasing food production for all the people that already here and all the people that are going to be here in future? Or do these 'intellectuals' only do things because they think they can or for their own ego and the respect of their peers?

Listening to: "Helplessly Hoping" Crosby, Stills & Nash

Reminiscing & Discovering Utah

Occasionally I miss things from back home. Its a mixture of things depending on the day or what I am doing.

If I am eating it might be things like HP Sauce on my chips. Utah fry sauce is ok, but at the end of the day its only ketchup and mayonnaise, no big deal. HP sauce is different, you can get it here in the British store but at $4 for the small bottle its a little pricey, especially when you know the real price. So I guess for now I'm stuck using ketchup or fry sauce.

Speaking of fries, I much prefer British style cut chips to fries. I might be flaco myself but those skinny little things don't do it for me, I like my chips meaty. Thankfully I have a wife who will on occasion cut them the way I like em. I think she loves me or something.

I miss my Irn Bru that I used to drink by the gallon, but although again it is possible for me to get it in the Scottish store I just don't know if I can justify a 30 minute trip downtown for the $2 small plastic bottles, especially when for some reason it tastes much better chilled in the glass bottles that aren't available here. Strangely I think I even miss the Irn Bru adverts, they are far more wittier than anything that seems to available here.

If I am watching tv I might miss the BBC. Sure you can get BBC America, but thats crap. Very few programs on it are BBC programs, a lot of whats on it is programs that few people want to watch back in the UK like How Clean Is Your House. Blah. Where is the good stuff that the BBC is good at like the Natural History programs or Wimbledon coverage.

Of course when it comes right down to it TV isn't that serious a thing to miss, not when I didn't watch too much of it anyway. I do on occasions miss places more, like being able to spend a few hours around Loch Lomond, go away for a couple of days in Skye or go hiking in Glen Lyon for example. But I'm finding even that isn't that big a deal when I have a whole new beautiful country to explore, this time with company by my side which is fun, but maybe we do need to prepare some food before we leave the house so that we can enjoy it a bit longer.










For now at least, even the blue skies of Utah in Summer is still a novel experience for someone who is used to cloud cover. Its taken my eyes some time to get used to it, and will probably take my pale skin even longer but it makes a nice change. Back home it seemed like it just wasn't fair that the most time scenes like below would occur would be on a winters day when it so cold that you would have to wrap up to enjoy it.

It was my Sister-In-Laws baby shower this weekend so she asked my wife to take some pictures of the event with my camera. As a result I have a lot of editing to do before this weekend approaches when I have a photo shoot of my own to do as I must make space on the computer before then. As I am going through them I am starting to realise that my wife not only has a wacky dreams of Australian chefs but she also a fetish of womens' feet.

I Really Need To Be less Judgemental

When it comes to the weekly grocery shopping trip, I much prefer to go to Smiths rather than Walmart. Partly because I have found that the meat in Smiths taste better than the Walmart variety. Why that should be the case I do not know, but the Walmart meat does seem to taste like cardboard.

But another reason is that at Smiths they don't feel the need to greet you at the door. I've always thought that Walmart were patronizing to the older worker, the disabled or the sick because thats the type of worker that they seem to use as greeters. Personally I thought that the older worker or even the disabled worker would have been more useful in another position, something that was more involving than "Hello, welcome to Walmart". But the day I saw a man standing, using a zimmer frame for support with an oxygen tank by his side, performing this role I was disturbed and thought that Walmart was taking the piss.

But a few weeks later, with my back once again acting up and my papers not yet finialised and therefore unable to visit the doctors for fear of it costing me a fortune I am looking on that Walmart memory a little differently. I realise now that I looked upon that sight as someone who is used to living in a country with a socialised healthcare system. That man I saw that day, living in a land where you need to have insurance to afford healthcare, probably had to work just to be able to pay his health costs, and Walmart was good enough to give him a job when many other places couldn't have accommodated him. It's not like he could have dragged his oxygen tank around the floor of the Olive Garden whilst serving diners.

I may well have changed my mind over the role of some of the Walmart greeters but until I taste some better meat, my opinion on that remains the same.