Jings, crivens, help ma Boab, it’s independence!
by Cally Phillips
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: Yin wee mild yin.
Description: The political clout of Oor Wullie.
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‘He’s Oor Wullie.’
‘Na, he’s mair Fat Boab.’
‘He’s Oor Wullie, I tell ye.’
‘’n ah’m tellin ye, he’s Fat Boab.’
We sat there, three muppets in the pub, debating for all the world as we had twenty-five years ago when we used tae sit roon ma hoose, me, Rab an’ Andy. We used tae sit on wur buckets like Oor Wullie an’ swap Christmas albums.
Ah ae’ways got Oor Wullie (or the Broons, they cam’ oot alternate years) an Rab ae’ways got The Beano or The Dandy or some sich. An’ Andy, well, hum bein’ o’ a higher class o’ fowk, (which means his ma wis English) he git Giles. Cartoons fer posh fowk. But Oor Wullie wis oor favourite. We a’ wanted tae be hum. So we got wur buckets; in ma case an upturned wastepaper bin, in Rab’s case the bucket his dad used fer washin’ the car (we niver had a car worth washin’) an’ in Andy’s case ma sister’s spacehopper (until the year he brocht roon a bean bag… aye that wis the kin of kid Andy wis, it wisnae his fault it wis his ma) and we used tae debate the in’s an’ oots o’ Oor Wullie like it wis politics.
Much like noo we were daein’ bit the ither way aroon. Here we wis, sittin in the pub, nae an unusual sicht, chattin’ aboot Big Eck. Alec. Salmond. Oor First Minister. A conversation that had stairted when Andy brocht oot the 2011 Oor Wullie album.
He slapped it oan the table lik he wis a god.
‘Look, I’ve got the latest Oor Wullie book,’ he says.
We didnae like tae tell him we’d gi’en up on Oor Wullie when we got girlfriends, cos he wis that chuffed that he wis finally wan o’ the gang. So we wis polite. We lookit at the album. And jings, crivens, help ma boab, I wis fair disappointed. An I cud tell Rab wis the same way when he shouts out, ‘Oor Wullie’s got a girlfriend, that’s no richt.’
‘Yes, Primrose,’ Andy says, proving that he’s been mugging up on the book afore he brings it tae share. Which ah hink wis even sadder than hum buyin’ it in the first place.
‘A girlfriend? Oor Wullie wi’ a girlfriend?’ Ah hud tae look at that.
So ah got masel’ intae the comic strips an’ it wisnae lang afore ah’d seen a load o’ changes. Ah mean. Oor Wullie wis a wee lad when ah wis a wee lad, ‘n ah ae’ways thocht we hud plenty in common. Getting’ intae scrapes n’ that. ‘N ah widnae expect that ah still hud mich in common wi’ him the noo, like that Bible says, ye pit awa’ childish hings when ye become a man, no? Ah wis nae langer the ‘target market’ as ye micht say. Or as Andy ae’ways said, whit with him havin’ his media degree.
But the worst hing aboot the ‘new’ Oor Wullie wis hoo it wis tryin’ tae be up tae date. Ah dinnae mean jist Primrose, ah mean that it stairted talkin’ politics. An’ that didnae feel richt fer Oor Wullie. Ah mean. We niver talked politics when we wis lads in the nineteen eighties. Ah mean, niver min’ Jock Tamson, we wis a’ Maggie Thatchers bairns. Born n’ bred. Oppression wis the usual fer us. Ma first memory is o’ bein on a march wi’ ma ma an a’ her cronies, in ma McLaren buggy wi’ a placard, n aebody shoutin’ ‘Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, oot, oot, oot.’ Bit she niver got oot till we wis near full grown. Politics wis a’ Spitting Image tae me in them days. The grey man got rid o’ the Iron Lady an’ it’s nae wunner that when we think o’ politics we think o’ cartoons. Bit no Oor Wullie. Ye’d niver see Maggie in Oor Wullie noo wid ye? Nae mair as ye’d see a real life Conservative in Scotland the day. No in the licht o’ day. They dinnae dare since they hud their arses skelpt in yon elections the last time… and the time afore that. An’ we’ve wur ain parliament noo anyways, an’ a’ the talks o’ Independence an’ we’ve nae time fer they Conservatives… ah mean, that Annabel Goldie, she could richt enough be oot o’ an Oor Wullie cartoon, an’ ah guess that’s how she disnae fit. Or maybe it’s hoo she got in, in the first place. Mebbe there is mair tae cartoons than ah thocht.
Which brings me back tae the main conversation…. An the conversation wis which wis Alec Salmond, wur First minister, maist like –Oor Wullie, or Fab Boab. Grown up, ye ken. Ah mean, ah’ve aeways thocht that he wis a fair smart guy Alec, an’ it mak’s me laugh cos ah kinna hink he’s the closest tae Charismatic Scot we really huv. If ye want tae hink o’ whit a Scotsman really is, it’s Alec. He’s nae Brad Pitt in looks fer sure, he looks mair like the boy wha ate a’ the pies. An’ that’s why ah reckon that in some way, he actually is, or at least is representative of a grown up Oor Wullie. Oor Hero. Bit Rab he wis determined that Big Eck wis mair like Fat Boab. Strange that nane o’ us thocht that Wee Eck wid graw up tae be Big Eck Salmond. Na, ye’ve got tae keep some reality tae the fantasy noo.
Ah cudnae work oot if Andy wis annoyed that we wis takin’ the piss oot o’ the new Oor Wullie album, or if he thocht we wis rippin’ the shit oot o’ hum. Bit he didnae seem that happy wi’ the way the conversation wis gaein. An’ then ah realised. Andy cannae really join in this conversation cus his childhood wis mair Giles as Oor Wullie, however much he tried. Ah well mind yon time we laughed till ah fell aff ma bucket when Andy says ‘why’s that kid ca’ed the Brain?’ cos he didn’t ken why the Bairn wis ca’ed the Bairn, in the Broons. Ah laughed then, bit ah blame his mither. Na, ah blame his faither, fer no bringing him up richt. Ah mean, his dad kent he’d marriet oot – a foreigner – an it wis his responsibility tae mak sure his son stayed Scots. Which tae ma mind he niver did. We shuld feel sorry fer Andy I guess. But then here he wis, waving oor childhood in front o’ us, showin’ us how hings hud changed an’ no fer the better in the world o’ Oor Wullie as well as in oor lives. So whit did he expect us tae dae? We wis men. We wis in the pub. We wis escaped from oor wives fer the nicht an’ it wisnae the footie season. Whit else cud we talk aboot but politics?
‘Look here Bob says tae Wullie that he shud be First Minister, an they a’ set up elections an’ that. That’s no richt,’ Rab says, unable tae move on frae the shock o’ hus childhood dreams bein’ shatterd.
‘Aye, bit it proves that Alec Salmond wid be Oor Wullie grawn,’ I pointed oot.
This wis gaein’ naewhere, lik’ maist o’ oor conversations. An’ there wis Andy wi’ a face like fizz, n’ there wis Rab, near greetin’ in his beer fer the ‘good auld days’ an’ there’s me jist hinking, whit a facer the whale hing wis.
Ah mean, ah’d niver been mich o’ a wan fer politics masel’, even if ah wis a buggy protester. Bit ye cannae ignore whit’s been gaein’ doon here recently. Ah mean. The Independence debate an’ that. It’s pairt o’ wur life is it no? An’ Big Eck he says that it’s the maist important decision we’ll a’ mak’ fer three hunner years, which is pretty damned big. Gie’n that nane o’ us is gonnae mak aeyhing near seventy the way we’re abusing wur livers an that. If ye listen tae that Nicola Sturgeon. Though, if they dae bring in that minimum pricin’ o alcohol mebbe’s we’ll a’ see a hunner at least. Bit will we want tae if we cannae afford the drink? Of course I ken that whale three hunner years hing’s a bit o’ the rhetoric, cus fer maist o’ us the biggest decision we mak’, or tae tell the truth, that gits made fer us by the lassies, is wha we marry. Mebbe that’s the point then. In politics it’s wur ain choice. Nae the lassie’s. Secret vote an’ that. If ye hud a secret vote on whether tae gang ahead wi’ a weddin’ ah’m guessing nane o’ the three o’ us wid be sittin’ in the pub wi’ the wife’s n’ weans we’ve a’ got the noo. ‘N Alec Salmond niver really hit ma’ radar afore. I mean there wis Donald Dewer wha gi’ed us the Parliament- devolution or whitever ye want tae ca’ it. In 1999. It wis a Braveheart moment I hink – they cannae tak’ oor freedom. Bit we hadnae got wur freedom. A’ we hud wis a swanky ower pricey place fer they politicians tae chat in. Niver felt lik’ freedom fer me. The tax payer. The man in the street. The ordinary boy. An then they couldnae figure it when the same clowns took on the Enbra Tram Project. Wis that no a disaster waitin’ tae happen. An wha thocht the twenty first century wid be enhanced by trams anyway? World’s gane mad. An Enbra’s became a laughing stock.
And noo, whither we liked it or no, politics hus become an issue fer the ordinary man. Even fer Oor Wullie. Ah niver really thocht o’ it when ah wis growin’ up. Wance Maggie left we’d nae obvious bogey man an’ it jist turned back intae a kinna mair borin’ version o’ the fitba debate.. ken, if ye support Partick Thistle wha dae ye really support? Ah’m nae saying Rangers is Conservative n’ Celtic Labour, n’ SNP is Partick Thistle. Na, we a’ ken it’s religion nae politics on that wan. An’ we wis nane o’ us bothered by religion. Mebbe that’s cus we wis frae the East no the West. Think on it, we Scots huv got tae huv divisions n’ sumhing tae fecht aboot whether it’s religion, fitba, politics or which side o’ the country ye cam frae. That’s jist the way we are. We lik’ tae fecht. Well, Andy wid say we lik tae debate cus o’ oor Enlightenment history. Bit ah hink that’s jist his university ways comin’ oot.
There’s a hell o’ a difference atween the workin’ class Scot an’ the middle class Scot and the high and michty landowning class Scot. An ah’m no sure ah cun pit ma finger oan whit joins a man frae Dumfries wi’ a loon frae Dingwall, apart mebbe from The Broons an Oor Wullie, bit then that’s probably why ah’m nae a politician. Div ye read the Press n Journal, or dae ye read the Herald, Scotsman, Record, Mail… aye the list is endless eh? ‘N whit dis the paper ye read say aboot yer cultural leanin’s? Ah’d nae spent haulf ma life in a pub wi’ Andy an’ Rab wi’oot picking up some o’ their bluster after all.
Cus Andy, he’d studied politics or some such at University. Aye, it disnae surprise ye tae learn that Andy went to University noo does it. Defecting tae Stirlin’ wis his ain personal Braveheart moment, bit we aye met up regular (much tae the aggreivance o’ his ma, wha hoped gaein’ tae uni wid git hum a better class o’ chum than he’d hud growin’ up. ) Cus we a’ went tae the Royal High School an’ they’d turned comprehensive, which wis a bit mair comprehensive than Andy’s ma’ really liked, but when they hud tae mak’ the choice o’ pitting hum in a merchant company scuil and payin the fees or haein’ gid family holidays… guess which they picked? Watson’s loss wis wur gain. Andy wis wan o’ the people. Or so his ma worried. Bit she hoped he’d stop mixin’ wi the like’s o me, when he git his wan way ticket tae Uni. But Andy fooled her an’ got a return ticket. Andy’s ma niver liked me, she thocht ah wis a useless get, and she micht hae hud a point. Cus me, ah couldnae even git an apprenticeship, modern or otherwise. Come eighteen ah wis stuck in college daein’ somehing pointless bit mainly huvin a laugh wi Rab whae wis studying media.. cus it wis the only course he could get on. Me, ah couldnae even git on media. Ah wis daein, ah dinnae like tae tell ye. Ah wis daein drama. Though ah wanted tae dae graphic design. But they wanted some skill or at least some ‘commitment’fer that. An commitment wisnae ma’ strong suit at that time. They’d tak anywan fer drama. Sae drama it wis. It hud it’s upside. There wis ten girls tae ivery boy sae fer the first time in ma life ah wis truly in demand.
So there’s us, aboot tae cam oot o college tae the brave new world o’ ‘Freedom’ when we got devolution. Short lived freedom cus we drapped like flies in wur early twenties. Girls. Oor Wullie hud’nae prepared us fer girls an’ their wiles. Primrose wisnae a part o’ the game in oor Oor Wullie albums. Girls were hings tae keep well clear o’. That drama course did fer me. Oh, ah sowed ma wild oats, bit ah got caught in the end. Reeled in by ma ain Primrose, though she wis ca’d Jess. A bonny lass richt enough. Ah’m nae complainin’. Bonny girl, bonny weans an’ they widnae hae got that frae me. Ah make Soapy Souter look braw.
So, we sat in the pub, an’ Andy went up tae git a round in cus ah hink he wis gettin’ bored o’ the ‘He’s Oor Wullie, na he’s Fab Bob’ debate. Anyways, he’s the boss an’ it wis a works nicht oot really, so he’s the wan wha shud be pittin’ his hond in his pocket. Aye, we a’ work the gither. Cun ye believe it? It’s a website design kinna hing. Ah dae website design noo, cus ah hud that interest in graphic design, mind, an’ ah paied ma way through nicht school when ma first wean wis wee. Got me oot the hoose. An’ there wis free Multimedia courses on offer, an Andy telt me he’d gie me a job if ah got a qualification. Which fair pleased me and fair pissed aff his ma. Ah cudnae huv pissed her aff mair if ah’d married Andy’s sister, Kate. Want a laugh? Rab did that wan. So he n’ Andy’r brithers in law, n’ Andy is uncle tae Rab’s kids. Gittin’ mair like the Broon’s a’ the time eh? Well, Andy. He’s the brains o’ oor operation and Rab, he works in sales. Got the gift o’ the gab. We realised we wis bound the gither by somehing stronger than jist oor love o comic books an we took that dot com bubble by the neck an we moved wi’ the times and we mak’ some kinna a livin’ from it a’. But really we’re still jist they three wee boys tryin’ tae be Oor Wullie, which is why we appreciate Big Eck sae much.
Andy cam’ back wi’ the pints, complainin’ as usual aboot the prices, an then he started tae explain tae us aboot the Independence Debate. His ploy tae git us away frae the Oor Wullie/Big Eck debate. He kens the whale independence question hing is beyond me – ah’m still tryin’ tae get ma knapper roon the West Lothian Question. Ah mean, wan question seems enough fer me. Ah mean. Dae ye want tae be Independent. Aye. Game over. Ah mean, if ye hink o’ it, a’ they countries wha used tae be part o’ the Soviet Union, even the titchy wee places like Lithuania – they’ve git their independence so why huvnae we? It’s pure embarrassin’ if ye think aboot it hard enough.
Andy’s the wan whae talks aboot devo max and devo this an that. It a’ soon’s like new soap powder tae me. Ah just wanna be able tae call ma country ma ain country. Mind you, there’s plenty of fowk roon here whae dinnae seem tae care if we’re independent or not. Ah mean, ma ma, ah’m sure she thinks Alec is marriet on that Nicola Sturgeon, cos they’re aeways seen oot the gither an he kisses her an a’ when something gangs richt (which is mair often than not these days it seems.) Sae mebbe Andy’s git a point. We need tae raise wur game an’ address the issue. If we cun work oot whit the issue is. Cus ah hink the issue is less what’s the question as is wha gits tae vote.
Ah mean, hoo come the English fowk stayin here’s gettin’ a vote? Me, Ah think, an maybe’s Ah shuld pit this idea forward afore the consultation period is ower (but where wid Ah dae it? ah dinnae ken hoo ah get tae consult wi’ fowk? Mebbe’s there’s a website ah cud chase?) Ah think that only them as pit their nationality as Scottish on the last census form should be able tae vote. Ah mean, turkeys dinnae vote fer Christmas dae they? Mak’s sense. An’ there’s plenty o English fowk here (which is fine, they cun be here same as the Poles or the Lithuanians or the Indians or Chinese) but loads o’ them will nae vote fer independence. An cun only hope the other nations huv unnerstood the importance o’ independence fer their ain countries an will back us. Bit it mak’s ye wunner hoo efter they got their independence they’ve a’ abandoned ship an’ cam ower here? But hoo many English fowk stayin here are gonnae vote fer it. Tae ma mind that’s the issue facin’ us. It worries me. But, Andy says Big Eck’s got a plan. An’ he points oot that at every stage of the journey they tried tae stop the SNP but at every step we’ve managed tae git oor way. Ah mean, they niver thought we’d git devolution. Then they niver thought we’d huv an SNP First Minister. Then they niver thought that the SNP wid win a majority an be runnin’ the Parliament. It’s the last push, Andy says. And we just got tae trust Big Eck. Ah mean, he wants it mair as we dae even. It’s been his whale life’s goal after all. We may dream big but he’s acting big an’ he’s no gonnae let this wan get away.
An ah dae trust in Big Eck. Even though ah dinnae unnerstan it a’ that clearly, ah ken that he’s got the wiles of Oor Wullie, n he is oor national symbol o’manhood and he’s gonna get us whit we want. Independence. Or die in the attempt. An’ efter a guid few pints, it gits me wunnerin’ whit wud Oor Wullie dae? An ah huv this funny thocht, which ah keep tae masel’ cus the boys wid jist laugh, bit ah’ll share it wi’ ye, if ye like. Because ah ken Alec Salmond is jist Oor Wullie grown up. An ah bet he keeps a stack o’ Oor Wullie albums in that posh place in Charlotte Square. An if ah close ma eyes, ah’ve got this picture o Alec Salmond, sitting oan a bucket reading them tae git a crackin’ guid plan. An’ that’s hoo ah ken that wan day we’ll git independence.
Swearwords: Yin wee mild yin.
Description: The political clout of Oor Wullie.
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‘He’s Oor Wullie.’
‘Na, he’s mair Fat Boab.’
‘He’s Oor Wullie, I tell ye.’
‘’n ah’m tellin ye, he’s Fat Boab.’
We sat there, three muppets in the pub, debating for all the world as we had twenty-five years ago when we used tae sit roon ma hoose, me, Rab an’ Andy. We used tae sit on wur buckets like Oor Wullie an’ swap Christmas albums.
Ah ae’ways got Oor Wullie (or the Broons, they cam’ oot alternate years) an Rab ae’ways got The Beano or The Dandy or some sich. An’ Andy, well, hum bein’ o’ a higher class o’ fowk, (which means his ma wis English) he git Giles. Cartoons fer posh fowk. But Oor Wullie wis oor favourite. We a’ wanted tae be hum. So we got wur buckets; in ma case an upturned wastepaper bin, in Rab’s case the bucket his dad used fer washin’ the car (we niver had a car worth washin’) an’ in Andy’s case ma sister’s spacehopper (until the year he brocht roon a bean bag… aye that wis the kin of kid Andy wis, it wisnae his fault it wis his ma) and we used tae debate the in’s an’ oots o’ Oor Wullie like it wis politics.
Much like noo we were daein’ bit the ither way aroon. Here we wis, sittin in the pub, nae an unusual sicht, chattin’ aboot Big Eck. Alec. Salmond. Oor First Minister. A conversation that had stairted when Andy brocht oot the 2011 Oor Wullie album.
He slapped it oan the table lik he wis a god.
‘Look, I’ve got the latest Oor Wullie book,’ he says.
We didnae like tae tell him we’d gi’en up on Oor Wullie when we got girlfriends, cos he wis that chuffed that he wis finally wan o’ the gang. So we wis polite. We lookit at the album. And jings, crivens, help ma boab, I wis fair disappointed. An I cud tell Rab wis the same way when he shouts out, ‘Oor Wullie’s got a girlfriend, that’s no richt.’
‘Yes, Primrose,’ Andy says, proving that he’s been mugging up on the book afore he brings it tae share. Which ah hink wis even sadder than hum buyin’ it in the first place.
‘A girlfriend? Oor Wullie wi’ a girlfriend?’ Ah hud tae look at that.
So ah got masel’ intae the comic strips an’ it wisnae lang afore ah’d seen a load o’ changes. Ah mean. Oor Wullie wis a wee lad when ah wis a wee lad, ‘n ah ae’ways thocht we hud plenty in common. Getting’ intae scrapes n’ that. ‘N ah widnae expect that ah still hud mich in common wi’ him the noo, like that Bible says, ye pit awa’ childish hings when ye become a man, no? Ah wis nae langer the ‘target market’ as ye micht say. Or as Andy ae’ways said, whit with him havin’ his media degree.
But the worst hing aboot the ‘new’ Oor Wullie wis hoo it wis tryin’ tae be up tae date. Ah dinnae mean jist Primrose, ah mean that it stairted talkin’ politics. An’ that didnae feel richt fer Oor Wullie. Ah mean. We niver talked politics when we wis lads in the nineteen eighties. Ah mean, niver min’ Jock Tamson, we wis a’ Maggie Thatchers bairns. Born n’ bred. Oppression wis the usual fer us. Ma first memory is o’ bein on a march wi’ ma ma an a’ her cronies, in ma McLaren buggy wi’ a placard, n aebody shoutin’ ‘Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, oot, oot, oot.’ Bit she niver got oot till we wis near full grown. Politics wis a’ Spitting Image tae me in them days. The grey man got rid o’ the Iron Lady an’ it’s nae wunner that when we think o’ politics we think o’ cartoons. Bit no Oor Wullie. Ye’d niver see Maggie in Oor Wullie noo wid ye? Nae mair as ye’d see a real life Conservative in Scotland the day. No in the licht o’ day. They dinnae dare since they hud their arses skelpt in yon elections the last time… and the time afore that. An’ we’ve wur ain parliament noo anyways, an’ a’ the talks o’ Independence an’ we’ve nae time fer they Conservatives… ah mean, that Annabel Goldie, she could richt enough be oot o’ an Oor Wullie cartoon, an’ ah guess that’s how she disnae fit. Or maybe it’s hoo she got in, in the first place. Mebbe there is mair tae cartoons than ah thocht.
Which brings me back tae the main conversation…. An the conversation wis which wis Alec Salmond, wur First minister, maist like –Oor Wullie, or Fab Boab. Grown up, ye ken. Ah mean, ah’ve aeways thocht that he wis a fair smart guy Alec, an’ it mak’s me laugh cos ah kinna hink he’s the closest tae Charismatic Scot we really huv. If ye want tae hink o’ whit a Scotsman really is, it’s Alec. He’s nae Brad Pitt in looks fer sure, he looks mair like the boy wha ate a’ the pies. An’ that’s why ah reckon that in some way, he actually is, or at least is representative of a grown up Oor Wullie. Oor Hero. Bit Rab he wis determined that Big Eck wis mair like Fat Boab. Strange that nane o’ us thocht that Wee Eck wid graw up tae be Big Eck Salmond. Na, ye’ve got tae keep some reality tae the fantasy noo.
Ah cudnae work oot if Andy wis annoyed that we wis takin’ the piss oot o’ the new Oor Wullie album, or if he thocht we wis rippin’ the shit oot o’ hum. Bit he didnae seem that happy wi’ the way the conversation wis gaein. An’ then ah realised. Andy cannae really join in this conversation cus his childhood wis mair Giles as Oor Wullie, however much he tried. Ah well mind yon time we laughed till ah fell aff ma bucket when Andy says ‘why’s that kid ca’ed the Brain?’ cos he didn’t ken why the Bairn wis ca’ed the Bairn, in the Broons. Ah laughed then, bit ah blame his mither. Na, ah blame his faither, fer no bringing him up richt. Ah mean, his dad kent he’d marriet oot – a foreigner – an it wis his responsibility tae mak sure his son stayed Scots. Which tae ma mind he niver did. We shuld feel sorry fer Andy I guess. But then here he wis, waving oor childhood in front o’ us, showin’ us how hings hud changed an’ no fer the better in the world o’ Oor Wullie as well as in oor lives. So whit did he expect us tae dae? We wis men. We wis in the pub. We wis escaped from oor wives fer the nicht an’ it wisnae the footie season. Whit else cud we talk aboot but politics?
‘Look here Bob says tae Wullie that he shud be First Minister, an they a’ set up elections an’ that. That’s no richt,’ Rab says, unable tae move on frae the shock o’ hus childhood dreams bein’ shatterd.
‘Aye, bit it proves that Alec Salmond wid be Oor Wullie grawn,’ I pointed oot.
This wis gaein’ naewhere, lik’ maist o’ oor conversations. An’ there wis Andy wi’ a face like fizz, n’ there wis Rab, near greetin’ in his beer fer the ‘good auld days’ an’ there’s me jist hinking, whit a facer the whale hing wis.
Ah mean, ah’d niver been mich o’ a wan fer politics masel’, even if ah wis a buggy protester. Bit ye cannae ignore whit’s been gaein’ doon here recently. Ah mean. The Independence debate an’ that. It’s pairt o’ wur life is it no? An’ Big Eck he says that it’s the maist important decision we’ll a’ mak’ fer three hunner years, which is pretty damned big. Gie’n that nane o’ us is gonnae mak aeyhing near seventy the way we’re abusing wur livers an that. If ye listen tae that Nicola Sturgeon. Though, if they dae bring in that minimum pricin’ o alcohol mebbe’s we’ll a’ see a hunner at least. Bit will we want tae if we cannae afford the drink? Of course I ken that whale three hunner years hing’s a bit o’ the rhetoric, cus fer maist o’ us the biggest decision we mak’, or tae tell the truth, that gits made fer us by the lassies, is wha we marry. Mebbe that’s the point then. In politics it’s wur ain choice. Nae the lassie’s. Secret vote an’ that. If ye hud a secret vote on whether tae gang ahead wi’ a weddin’ ah’m guessing nane o’ the three o’ us wid be sittin’ in the pub wi’ the wife’s n’ weans we’ve a’ got the noo. ‘N Alec Salmond niver really hit ma’ radar afore. I mean there wis Donald Dewer wha gi’ed us the Parliament- devolution or whitever ye want tae ca’ it. In 1999. It wis a Braveheart moment I hink – they cannae tak’ oor freedom. Bit we hadnae got wur freedom. A’ we hud wis a swanky ower pricey place fer they politicians tae chat in. Niver felt lik’ freedom fer me. The tax payer. The man in the street. The ordinary boy. An then they couldnae figure it when the same clowns took on the Enbra Tram Project. Wis that no a disaster waitin’ tae happen. An wha thocht the twenty first century wid be enhanced by trams anyway? World’s gane mad. An Enbra’s became a laughing stock.
And noo, whither we liked it or no, politics hus become an issue fer the ordinary man. Even fer Oor Wullie. Ah niver really thocht o’ it when ah wis growin’ up. Wance Maggie left we’d nae obvious bogey man an’ it jist turned back intae a kinna mair borin’ version o’ the fitba debate.. ken, if ye support Partick Thistle wha dae ye really support? Ah’m nae saying Rangers is Conservative n’ Celtic Labour, n’ SNP is Partick Thistle. Na, we a’ ken it’s religion nae politics on that wan. An’ we wis nane o’ us bothered by religion. Mebbe that’s cus we wis frae the East no the West. Think on it, we Scots huv got tae huv divisions n’ sumhing tae fecht aboot whether it’s religion, fitba, politics or which side o’ the country ye cam frae. That’s jist the way we are. We lik’ tae fecht. Well, Andy wid say we lik tae debate cus o’ oor Enlightenment history. Bit ah hink that’s jist his university ways comin’ oot.
There’s a hell o’ a difference atween the workin’ class Scot an’ the middle class Scot and the high and michty landowning class Scot. An ah’m no sure ah cun pit ma finger oan whit joins a man frae Dumfries wi’ a loon frae Dingwall, apart mebbe from The Broons an Oor Wullie, bit then that’s probably why ah’m nae a politician. Div ye read the Press n Journal, or dae ye read the Herald, Scotsman, Record, Mail… aye the list is endless eh? ‘N whit dis the paper ye read say aboot yer cultural leanin’s? Ah’d nae spent haulf ma life in a pub wi’ Andy an’ Rab wi’oot picking up some o’ their bluster after all.
Cus Andy, he’d studied politics or some such at University. Aye, it disnae surprise ye tae learn that Andy went to University noo does it. Defecting tae Stirlin’ wis his ain personal Braveheart moment, bit we aye met up regular (much tae the aggreivance o’ his ma, wha hoped gaein’ tae uni wid git hum a better class o’ chum than he’d hud growin’ up. ) Cus we a’ went tae the Royal High School an’ they’d turned comprehensive, which wis a bit mair comprehensive than Andy’s ma’ really liked, but when they hud tae mak’ the choice o’ pitting hum in a merchant company scuil and payin the fees or haein’ gid family holidays… guess which they picked? Watson’s loss wis wur gain. Andy wis wan o’ the people. Or so his ma worried. Bit she hoped he’d stop mixin’ wi the like’s o me, when he git his wan way ticket tae Uni. But Andy fooled her an’ got a return ticket. Andy’s ma niver liked me, she thocht ah wis a useless get, and she micht hae hud a point. Cus me, ah couldnae even git an apprenticeship, modern or otherwise. Come eighteen ah wis stuck in college daein’ somehing pointless bit mainly huvin a laugh wi Rab whae wis studying media.. cus it wis the only course he could get on. Me, ah couldnae even git on media. Ah wis daein, ah dinnae like tae tell ye. Ah wis daein drama. Though ah wanted tae dae graphic design. But they wanted some skill or at least some ‘commitment’fer that. An commitment wisnae ma’ strong suit at that time. They’d tak anywan fer drama. Sae drama it wis. It hud it’s upside. There wis ten girls tae ivery boy sae fer the first time in ma life ah wis truly in demand.
So there’s us, aboot tae cam oot o college tae the brave new world o’ ‘Freedom’ when we got devolution. Short lived freedom cus we drapped like flies in wur early twenties. Girls. Oor Wullie hud’nae prepared us fer girls an’ their wiles. Primrose wisnae a part o’ the game in oor Oor Wullie albums. Girls were hings tae keep well clear o’. That drama course did fer me. Oh, ah sowed ma wild oats, bit ah got caught in the end. Reeled in by ma ain Primrose, though she wis ca’d Jess. A bonny lass richt enough. Ah’m nae complainin’. Bonny girl, bonny weans an’ they widnae hae got that frae me. Ah make Soapy Souter look braw.
So, we sat in the pub, an’ Andy went up tae git a round in cus ah hink he wis gettin’ bored o’ the ‘He’s Oor Wullie, na he’s Fab Bob’ debate. Anyways, he’s the boss an’ it wis a works nicht oot really, so he’s the wan wha shud be pittin’ his hond in his pocket. Aye, we a’ work the gither. Cun ye believe it? It’s a website design kinna hing. Ah dae website design noo, cus ah hud that interest in graphic design, mind, an’ ah paied ma way through nicht school when ma first wean wis wee. Got me oot the hoose. An’ there wis free Multimedia courses on offer, an Andy telt me he’d gie me a job if ah got a qualification. Which fair pleased me and fair pissed aff his ma. Ah cudnae huv pissed her aff mair if ah’d married Andy’s sister, Kate. Want a laugh? Rab did that wan. So he n’ Andy’r brithers in law, n’ Andy is uncle tae Rab’s kids. Gittin’ mair like the Broon’s a’ the time eh? Well, Andy. He’s the brains o’ oor operation and Rab, he works in sales. Got the gift o’ the gab. We realised we wis bound the gither by somehing stronger than jist oor love o comic books an we took that dot com bubble by the neck an we moved wi’ the times and we mak’ some kinna a livin’ from it a’. But really we’re still jist they three wee boys tryin’ tae be Oor Wullie, which is why we appreciate Big Eck sae much.
Andy cam’ back wi’ the pints, complainin’ as usual aboot the prices, an then he started tae explain tae us aboot the Independence Debate. His ploy tae git us away frae the Oor Wullie/Big Eck debate. He kens the whale independence question hing is beyond me – ah’m still tryin’ tae get ma knapper roon the West Lothian Question. Ah mean, wan question seems enough fer me. Ah mean. Dae ye want tae be Independent. Aye. Game over. Ah mean, if ye hink o’ it, a’ they countries wha used tae be part o’ the Soviet Union, even the titchy wee places like Lithuania – they’ve git their independence so why huvnae we? It’s pure embarrassin’ if ye think aboot it hard enough.
Andy’s the wan whae talks aboot devo max and devo this an that. It a’ soon’s like new soap powder tae me. Ah just wanna be able tae call ma country ma ain country. Mind you, there’s plenty of fowk roon here whae dinnae seem tae care if we’re independent or not. Ah mean, ma ma, ah’m sure she thinks Alec is marriet on that Nicola Sturgeon, cos they’re aeways seen oot the gither an he kisses her an a’ when something gangs richt (which is mair often than not these days it seems.) Sae mebbe Andy’s git a point. We need tae raise wur game an’ address the issue. If we cun work oot whit the issue is. Cus ah hink the issue is less what’s the question as is wha gits tae vote.
Ah mean, hoo come the English fowk stayin here’s gettin’ a vote? Me, Ah think, an maybe’s Ah shuld pit this idea forward afore the consultation period is ower (but where wid Ah dae it? ah dinnae ken hoo ah get tae consult wi’ fowk? Mebbe’s there’s a website ah cud chase?) Ah think that only them as pit their nationality as Scottish on the last census form should be able tae vote. Ah mean, turkeys dinnae vote fer Christmas dae they? Mak’s sense. An’ there’s plenty o English fowk here (which is fine, they cun be here same as the Poles or the Lithuanians or the Indians or Chinese) but loads o’ them will nae vote fer independence. An cun only hope the other nations huv unnerstood the importance o’ independence fer their ain countries an will back us. Bit it mak’s ye wunner hoo efter they got their independence they’ve a’ abandoned ship an’ cam ower here? But hoo many English fowk stayin here are gonnae vote fer it. Tae ma mind that’s the issue facin’ us. It worries me. But, Andy says Big Eck’s got a plan. An’ he points oot that at every stage of the journey they tried tae stop the SNP but at every step we’ve managed tae git oor way. Ah mean, they niver thought we’d git devolution. Then they niver thought we’d huv an SNP First Minister. Then they niver thought that the SNP wid win a majority an be runnin’ the Parliament. It’s the last push, Andy says. And we just got tae trust Big Eck. Ah mean, he wants it mair as we dae even. It’s been his whale life’s goal after all. We may dream big but he’s acting big an’ he’s no gonnae let this wan get away.
An ah dae trust in Big Eck. Even though ah dinnae unnerstan it a’ that clearly, ah ken that he’s got the wiles of Oor Wullie, n he is oor national symbol o’manhood and he’s gonna get us whit we want. Independence. Or die in the attempt. An’ efter a guid few pints, it gits me wunnerin’ whit wud Oor Wullie dae? An ah huv this funny thocht, which ah keep tae masel’ cus the boys wid jist laugh, bit ah’ll share it wi’ ye, if ye like. Because ah ken Alec Salmond is jist Oor Wullie grown up. An ah bet he keeps a stack o’ Oor Wullie albums in that posh place in Charlotte Square. An if ah close ma eyes, ah’ve got this picture o Alec Salmond, sitting oan a bucket reading them tae git a crackin’ guid plan. An’ that’s hoo ah ken that wan day we’ll git independence.
About the Author
Cally Phillips was born in England of Scottish
parentage. Now in Turriff, she has lived most of her life in various
parts of Scotland, urban and rural.
Cally works for Ayton Publishing as series editor and also promotes the work of “Scotland’s Forgotten Bestseller” S. R. Crockett through his online literary society, The Galloway Raiders www.gallowayraiders.co.uk
Cally works for Ayton Publishing as series editor and also promotes the work of “Scotland’s Forgotten Bestseller” S. R. Crockett through his online literary society, The Galloway Raiders www.gallowayraiders.co.uk