A Son of the Rock

Got your steak pie, black bun and shortbread at the ready have you?

Me neither – except for the shortbread. (I was given a tin of shortbread as a Christmas present. It was for the tin really; I have a small collection of nice tins and this, a good example, was one of five tins I was given this year. Three even had things in them.)

Despite the tradition – which the good lady’s family used to uphold – there will be no steak pie at Son Of The Rock towers this New Year. I haven’t knowingly eaten meat from a cow or bull ever since I heard about BSE. Nor will there be black bun: I’ve never tasted black bun in my life. Were it not for The Broons I doubt I’d have heard of the stuff.

We now have to prepare for “The Bells.” The house is supposed to be clean and tidy; lots of hoovering and dusting to be done. Then we’ll lay out the booze, shortbread and cherry cake in case there’s a first foot.

For the last few years we’ve had some of our sons’ friends around to bring in the New Year but they may be going to someone else’s this time around.

Is it my imagination or is Hogmanay TV now utter rubbish? It was fine when we had Scotch And Wry but Rikki Fulton has long since gone to the great Last Call in the sky and taken I M Jolly with him. Instead we’re stuck with the BBC Scotland-given-right to watch Only An Excuse? for the single laugh it will provide and the awesome naffness of the show that ushers in the New Year – usually with an inappropriately dressed Jackie Bird, some pretty crap Scottish entertainers desperate for the exposure plus an extremely po-faced fiddler and an accompanying accordionist. But STV’s efforts are usually even worse.

I suppose everybody is too busy to notice. There are more organised events than there were in my youth. Edinburgh and Glasgow’s Hogmanay dos are no longer the only ones. They even had one in Kirkcaldy one year but I think they’ve given that up.

This New Year, what with Credit Crunch and recession, is likely to be a sickly child. Not much to celebrate really.

But celebrate we will. It’s what we Scots do to light up the dark winter and forget the troubles of the world for one night.

*Hogmanay