The Glasgow Alphabet By Rosemary Cunningham.

By illustrator Rosemary Cunningham, welcome to the Glasgow Alphabet!

A is for Armadillo!

B is for the (in)famous Barras Market

C is for the Clyde AND the Clydeport crane

D is for the Daulton Fountain in Glasgow Green

E is for E is for Eglinton Toll

F  is for the legendary Fish Plaice on the Saltmarket

G is for The GFT

H is for the Huntarian museum where weird and sometimes macabre curiosities abound!

I is for one of the three Teuchter Triangle pubs – The Islay Inn.

J is for Strathclyde University’s Jordanhill campus building – what a looker!

K is for the Kibble Palace in the Botanic Gardens!

L is for library. The Mitchell Library!

M is for the The Glasgow School of Art Mackintosh building!

N is for Necropolis. Great days out with the dead!

O is for Glasgow’s Grand Ole Opry.

P is for Panopticon!

Q is for Queen’s Cafe.

R is for The Theatre Royal.

S is for the Glasgow Subway system!

T is for The Tall Ship!

A very Glaswegian entry in the Glasgow Alphabet; U is for the Hielanman’s Umbrella at Central Station.

Architect Alexander Greek Thompson makes into the Glasgow Alphabet via V for St. Vincent Street Church!

W for Wellington!

X is for Glasgow Cross!

Y is for Yorkhill Childrens Hospital.

…And the Glasgow Alphabet finishes with Z for Glasgow Uni’s Zoological museum.

Good eh?
Keep up with Rosemary and her fabulous work by clicking right HERE.

You may also be interested in…
* Al Cook’s “Necropolis”
* The Tolbooth Steeple, Glasgow (PART I)
* The Tolbooth Steeple, Glasgow (PART II)

Homesick For A Place That Ain’t Even Home.

So that’s me back from New York City.
I took several big bites outta The Big Apple and it tastes sweet!

I was over there for only one week and it went past in lightning time.
This was my 3rd time over there and now it’s all over.

I’ve got the ‘came back from New York 2 days ago’ blues.
I’m bluer than Joni Mitchell’s blue face on the cover of her album “Blue“, playing the blues on a blue guitar from Picasso’s blue period with my face painted blue in front row seats watching Blue Man Group whilst punching Anthony Costa‘s face in :(

One day you’re standing on the corner of 34th and 8th then…WHOOSH!
Next thing you know you’re standing in the middle of Duke Street with a what the hell just happened look on your face.

I’m tired as hell.
I’ve pretty much been up for a whole week and 3 hours after my plane landed back in Glasgow,
I went out on the town to see the terrifying stand up comedy of Jerry Sadowitz.

Needless to say I had the time of my life over in New York.
It feels like home more than home feels like home.
Out all day doing all kinds of interesting things and tearing the town up at night,
I know my way around NYC better than I know my way around here.

I kept a diary in New York which ended up being pretty long.
I wrote it in bars and cafes at night as I wandered around looking for the kind of New York you see in Scorsese films and the good news is that I found it!
I also took around 1500 photographs and met some great people…BUT!
I’m gonna have to tell you all about it later.
I’ll get it typed up and post it all up on here over the next week or so.

So here I am feeling homesick for a place that’s ain’t even my home.
Maybe one day it will be.

Pure Evil.

How’s this for evil…

…Or how about a little ZOLTAR!

What’s the matter?
Not evil enough for ya!?

Well what about THIS MANIAC THEN!:

All very scary and evil I’m sure you’ll agree.
But I’m here today to tell you about a new maniac in town.

More Disturbing!
More Shocking!

Pure.
Evil:

Aye that’s right.

The Day I Saw A Rocket Take Off.

I used to have a telescope when I was a wee boy.

My Granda gave it to me.
That meant it was pretty good and cost a fair amount of money.

I used to set it up on its tripod out the back and point it up.

I’d look at the Moon and wonder like every boy should and one time I even saw Neptune through it!
It was turquoise.

Other times when it was cloudy,
I’d just aim the telescope at the nearest window in the scheme.
Wondering…like every boy should ;)

My Dad always told me to never look at the Sun with it and I did.
All the time in fact!

I wear glasses now.
Strong ones.

He was probably right but there’s no way of telling.

Later,
Our folks saved up and took me and my Sister on holiday to Florida.

America.

My Mum got heatstroke and couldn’t leave the hotel one day and my Sister stayed with her.

That was the day that my Dad took me to Cape Canaveral.
The John F. Kennedy Space Centre.
I was 10.

I want to write about it here because although I remember it now,
It’s fading a bit.
Like I say,
I was 10.

I remember my Dad that day, getting used to driving on the right-hand side of the road fairly quickly and I remember it being a long, early in the morning drive out to Kennedy.
- American roads.
Big long straight sun kissed highways!

I think it was a 1 or 2 hour drive but we got there and took the tour.

We stood beside rocket engine exhausts that were 50 times bigger than we were.
We saw shiny, futuristic looking dune buggy’s which in actuality, dated back to when my Dad was a boy.

There were rockets and shuttles that were bigger than the tallest buildings I’d ever seen and Space suits which dwarfed the both of us!

I remember thinking:
“How can men make this stuff!?”
“How do they know how!?”
10 year old thoughts.
But here’s me approaching 30 and still asking myself the same questions.

And with 30 approaching fast,
My memory is going away even faster.

The next thing I remember is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

We were 4 miles away.
We had to be because that’s what they said.
4 miles away was the safest distance y’see!
4 miles away behind a barrier.
About to watch a space rocket take off!

It wasn’t planned.
We didn’t know we’d see a rocket lift off that day.
Just luck.
Right place, right time.

I remember being in among lots of other tourists and American 10 year olds (who were all bigger than me) and joining in on the countdown.

I don’t remember hearing the famous words “LIFT OFF!” but I’ll never forget the explosion.

It was mind blowing!

The kind of thing which instantly makes you feel very small.

I had always thought that the smoke trail from a rocket would be a perfect straight line as it goes up but it wasn’t.
It was a sort of swirling reverse pattern.
Kinda like an upside down tornado.

We watched that massive man made thing blast off into the sky…and that’s another thing!
I thought the rocket would just gradually fade and disappear into the sky but it didn’t

Florida was glorious that day and there were no clouds.

We watched that rocket go all the way up and ‘penetrate’ is the wrong word.
‘Break’ is the right word.
We saw the rocket break through the blue sky.

I don’t know how to describe something breaking the sky.

It’s all hard to describe and it’s twenty years later but luckily,
We took photos and I recently found them.

I’ll scan them in and add them into this post in a day or two so check back.

I think I’m gonna buy a telescope again.

An Old Man Thing.

I’ve found myself doing some ‘Old Man’ things lately.

There’s no good reason for it.
I was born on November 1981.
I’m 28.

Although,
I live alone so maybe that’s got something to do with it but I’ve always been like that so I doubt it.

This morning,
I spent a good half an hour looking…
No, staring at people out the window, wondering where they were going.
That’s an Old Man thing.

My ‘Old Man’ things don’t stop there though.

When I see half naked 20 year old drunk girls with legs that go on forever sauntering down Albion Street at 4 in the morning,
My first thought is: ‘Idiots. They must be fucking freezing’.

I go to bed late and get up early.
I make a sort of ‘Acccchhhhaye’ sound when I get out of a chair.
I hate clubs and luminous drinks.
I hate text speak and internet slang.
I hate that kids play swimming games on Wii’s instead of going swimming.

I spend far too much time remembering things too.
I remember…

When you had East & West Germany.

When you could go to a gig with a heavy, glass paneled beer tanker and ‘Ear Defenders’ weren’t advised or on offer.

When 10 cigarettes cost 75p and you could buy them from Woolworths (for your Granny) and smoke them in the cinema.

When only skinny people wore ‘skinny’ jeans and they weren’t called ‘Skinny jeans’. They were just called jeans.

Standing on top of a Police van and seeing Radiohead at T In The Park and wondering who they were.

Watching THIS, Live Aid and the fall of the Berlin Wall live on telly with my Family.

When T.V. stopped for the night and The National Anthem was played just like THIS.

When Johnny Depp was ‘that guy whose bed ate him’.

When film studios had original ideas.

Taping Prince’s latest single ‘Partyman’ off the radio.

Betamax, Laser and Flexi Discs and how much I hated them.

When Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan, Billy Connolly & Al Pacino looked like THIS, THIS, THIS & THIS.

I remember when Steve Martin’s hair wasn’t white.

Alright, alright.
I don’t actually remember when Steve Martin didn’t have white hair but look!
Apparently at one time he didn’t!

I’m moaning here.
That’s an ‘Old Man’ thing.

Fuck it.
I’ve always been old.
I was born old.

I like hanging about with older people.
I like listening to older people with stories to tell.
I like memories and folk who’ve done things in their lives.
I like hearing about the way things were.
I like to lean on railings in the afternoon and watch the town.

I like change too.
Obviously I like change!
You need it.

I still play on the swings on Glasgow Green every time I get the chance.
But these days,
I bring bread with me to feed the birds.

That’s an ‘Old Man’ thing.

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