Been trying to avoid the news, but it's hard to not see the effects of the tragedy in Charleston. I live in a racist, violent country - ruled by guns. If rooms full of dead children and adults will not make us take a hard look at it, nothing will. The nation is not capable of real change, other than security theater.
So I unplugged yesterday while my wife and her sister went out to do sisterly things and wandered around Glasgow for the day. Took the train into an unknown part of town to me and visited the park where Third Lanark used to play.
An interesting, ghostly experience that was only missing morning mist on the pitch. Since I was there, I strolled past Hampden Park and had no idea it was in such a residential neighborhood, not unlike Wrigley Field.
Managed to get on the right trains at the right time and got back to Central Station intact. I keep getting turned around when in downtown Glasgow, my compass does not work, but once I find the Clyde River I can figure things out. Found an old chip/breakfast shop and smiled my way through a language barrier to get some food.
These people had some very, very thick Glaswegian accents but we were all nice to each other. They asked where I was from and so on. The chips were not good, the fish cooked ok, the tea was excellent as was the patter. Heard some outstanding cursing, great breakfast conversation to overhear.
Was lucky enough to remember to visit the Britannia Panoptican, one of the oldest Music Halls left in the world. It was a thrill to stand on the same stage where sixteen year old Stan Laurel made his theatrical debut, in 1906. The hall is being slowly restored and Judith Bowers is doing amazing work in stewarding the process, mostly on her own.
By then I was ready for a proper drink and headed to the Horseshoe since I missed it on my last visit.
After that it was time to once again hit the Pot Still. Fell in love with this place my last visit and that love only increased. Got into a fine conversation with a gentleman from Northern Ireland, had some good advice from Frank the proprietor and the whiskey was excellent. If there is a better selection of whiskey anywhere in the world, I'd like to see it. After a few my wife and sister showed up at the pre-determined time to get me out of there while I could still walk, but not before I had a Mortlach that was distilled in 1984.
Quieter day today. All continues to be well here.
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