The luck of the Irish

Top of the mornin’ to ya. Isn’t that what the Irish say? It’s St. Patrick’s Day, or as it seems to have become, Paddy’s Day. As I’ve probably said somewhere else on this blog, I’m not Irish, so I’m not celebrating it. I don’t even celebrate St. Andrew’s Day on 30 November, but if I were to be given paid leave from work, I’d take it. The closest Monday to Paddy’s Day is a holiday in Ireland, which is probably a good idea. There will be a few sore heads tomorrow, and I’d not begrudge anyone in austerity-hit Ireland the chance of a party. We need a revolution, however, and a bloody one, at that.

In a few weeks time, the NHS in England will, effectively, cease to exist, changes will be made throughout the UK to benefits and the ignominious ‘bedroom tax’ will come into law. The Liberal Democrats maintain that they are a moderating influence on the Tories, so Christ knows what would be visited on the poor, the old, the sick, the unemployed and the otherwise disadvantaged without them. Well, the United Kingdom, or what could be left of it, will find out in 2015. We in Scotland have an opportunity to make a better nation and I, for one, will never forgive anyone who doesn’t take that chance in 2014.

While I still have a job and some money I can indulge in some of my hobbies and on Sunday 10 March, I plucked up the courage to go along to Curlers’ Bar in Byres Road for the GFW Very Slow Session. My enthusiasm can be measured by the fact that it had been snowing heavily! My ability, however, didn’t match that enthusiasm, and I struggled through all of the sets. If practice makes perfect, I will have to do a lot of practicing.

On Monday, I went to Stow College for the Ukulele class and returned to my car to find a parking ticket on my windscreen. It was my fault. That street never used to have restrictions after 6pm, so I didn't think to look for a huge sign that I didn’t see in the street with no lights. What pissed me off was that those bloodsucking bastards were out putting tickets on cars at 9pm on a Monday in an obscure street that was far from busy. I will take more care in future, and will also never pay to park in this city again. This could mean that I may have to return home instead of attending an event. 

I’ve been at home in the evenings ever since. I was meant to be at concerts last night and tonight, but I’ve been sitting out in the cold at football matches and it’s too much effort to come home and change into more respectable clothing. I’ve obviously got so much money that I can throw away tickets worth £18.50.