Talking Point with Ron Harris

Ron Harris'Picture by Lindsay Addison
Ron Harris'Picture by Lindsay Addison

Find out what’s on Carluke and Lanark Gazette chief reporter Ron’s mind this week

WAE inquiries breaking oot left, right and centre intae just aboot everything, mah heid’s birlin’.

That’s why ah decided last week tae relax wae something far, far less complicated and, indeed, childishly simple – Yank politics.

Wae the Good Lady Wife and the Good Lady Wife’s Maw away together for a few days in Embra in a two-wumman mission tae put the capital city’s tram-stricken shops back oan their financial feet, ah decided tae convene a special session o’ the Lanark Pub Parliament for the US election nicht.

Of course, it being a Tuesday, all the Honorable Members firmly decided that we’d call a halt and gang tae oor beds no later than wan o’clock.

Needless tae say, wan beer led tae fourteen others and we ended up hinging oan in front o’ the telly until five in the morning for the “vital” result tae come in frae Little Chickenshack, Nebraska.

This turned oot tae have been a waste o’ time as it was sich a’ remote, hillbilly backwater, it voted for Dwight D. Eisenhower tae be President.

This sparked a heated debate amang the Honorable Members oan how weird everywans’ names seemed tae be in America. “Dwight D. Eisenhower!” marvelled the Member for Stanmore South,”Whit kinda name is yon? Ah mean, oor elections have fellas wae right boring names like Gordon Broon and David Cameron; they’ve got guys cried Barack Obama and Mitt Romney!”

“Aye,” mused the Member for Kildare North, “and does onywan ken whit ‘Mitt’ is short for? Surely his folks didnae Christen him ‘Mitten’ Romney?”

“That’s no’ the worst,” quoth the Member for Little Cleghorn, a bit o’ a political student, “Who’s this guy Ash Dieback staunin’ for?”

Sighin’, ah pointed oot that Ash Dieback was a forestry disease, no’ a candidate, and that’s why they were stopping exports o’ saplings at the border.

“Is it the Customs stopping they trees?” he asked.

“Naw; Special Branch, you numptie,” ah snarled back, returning tae the election wae the slur; “and you’re only for the Republicans because they’ve got the word ‘publican’ in their name.”

Riled, he viciously counter-attacked: “YOU’RE wan tae talk, Harris! Lanark’s JK Rowling! Aye, a jakey rolling aboot the Wellgate, mair like!”

The Speaker intervened tae prevent a square-go developing: “Haw-hey; best o’ order there! That’s no’ fair. You ken fine Ron had tae gie up the bevvy years ago. Sure, and hasn’t there been four offies and two pubs closed doon in the burgh since tae prove it!”

This fact being, sadly, entirely true, we settled back doon for the Full Time Results tae come through and when the clincher score frae Ohio was announced, the cameras caught the gleefu’ Obama supporters’ party chanting: “Four more years! Four more years!”

Three thoosand miles away, back in at the Lanark Parliament: “Four more beers! Four more beers!” was the chorus in response.

And so, as a very fine and principled President o’ the United States made his way back tae the White Hoose, ah made mah way back tae mah fast-emptying fridge.