Steve and his Dad go to Glasgow Before we start, I need to apologise on two fronts: first, that this month’s blog is around twice its usual length, commiserations to those who lose the will to live in the middle of it; second, that it is recycled. I am now commuting to London again two to three days per week. As mentioned in a previous blog, I sorely miss the lunchtime meetings in the pub with my old and dear pal Kevin Connelly. He used to work only a mile away from me, but now he is retired. On one of those lunchtimes in the pub, I was lamenting my writer’s block and during the same lunchtime told him the story below, which is completely true. Kevin said, You’ve got your next story ready made for you. Stop trying to make something up. So I fictionalised the events following, and have ‘defictionalised’ them for our present purposes. ...
