Albert Morris
Albert Morris
I'll just switch off the light. That's it. Farewell
ONCE, in the dear, dead days almost beyond even my recall, The Scotsman printed posters of its new columnist who, the newspaper predicted, would mould the minds of the western world. It showed me with a grin meant to be authoritatively reassuring but which, one reader observed, gave me the glare of a strong-minded wolverine.
Frayed nerves in the classroom's feral underworld
READERS who turn to Albert Morris’s Schooldays, will find details of my fight for survival in a rigorous world of sentence parsing and verb declensions, the Pythagorean pain of geometry and the exquisite agonies of algebra, all made worse by flailing leather belts on pupils’ pink palms and hurts to one’s pride with school report entries like: "Mathematics - could be worse, but not much."
More top stories
Woodnotes wild in my bath while plying the loofah
I HAVE, people say, a splendid baritone voice. It’s a pity I spoil it, they add, by singing. But I often warble my native woodnotes wild in my bath while plying the loofah, at the car wheel, perhaps in a sunburst of joy at finding a parking space in Edinburgh and, sometimes, to add a crackling, catarrhal accompaniment to some oleaginous operatic tenor on radio or TV.
In poll position with the lumpen uncommitted
THE tumult and the shouting have started, the general election campaign captains and kings have arrived and those in poll positions will again be scrutinising that electoral enigma, the voting intentions of the lumpen uncommitted, the ballot-box agnostics or the "don’t knows".
In the pink as a serial lame duck
I HAVE had a moment of weakness that did not go as far as making me feel sorry for the government’s embarrassment and rage over parliamentary opposition to the Terrorism Bill, but did produce a fellow-feeling for those responsible for the botched legislation, who may be reeling and writhing in red-faced remorse.
Hungry for the old, bold meals of yesteryear
WHEN you look at me, you see not only a piece of the empire writ small, but also one who, during the Second World War, bit the food-rationing bullet and helped to lick Hitler.
Mystery tour in a world of nudge, nod and wink
INSIDER: "One who is accepted as a member of a group and knows all about its inner workings." Thus, my dictionary definition which although satisfactory as far it goes, does not, in my usually valuable opinion, go far enough, since the word has also come to mean a shadowy, background-lurking figure who not only knows what makes an organisation, group or personality tick, but is also prepared to talk about such knowledge, especially to journalists.
Trains of thought on railway comfort
WHILE I’ve been about a bit, I am not one of those tanned travellers who have been sniffed at by wolves.
Siren songs in an advertising dream world
YOU may not believe this, but there was a time when meadow, grove and stream, the earth and every common sight, to me did seem apparell’d in celestial light, especially when I entered the world of advertisements.
On a columnar healing mission with my ego
APART from resuming nuclear testing, there was only one thing to do - and I did it; I consulted my ego. I had read a press report that increasing numbers of people, believing they had no redeeming features or seeking to repair the ravages of ageing, were undergoing plastic surgery and I wanted to see if my ego, because of a reader’s malevolent missive, was showing signs of incipient confidence loss and lowering of opinionative impact and needed fast-tracked, morale enlargement.
Caught in a spin-doctors phantasmagoria
IN ALL my days, I have never had such a nightmare.
Youthful dreams of a Paradise Fruit afterlife
WHEN, to the sessions of sweet, silent thought, I summon up remembrance of things past, I realise that, although I have sometimes bitten off more than I could chew, when it came to the crunch, my life has been sweetened by a trove of treasures, toothsome but tough on dentist’s bills.
Bully for those discipline-rich service days
WITHOUT looking at newsprint columns. I knew instinctively that the grand old moniker of A Morris (family motto, In Vino Veritas) had, yet again, been scandalously omitted from the honours’ list. There was only one thing to do and I did it.
Escape from an evil world into filmic fantasies
CALL me what you will - film buff, movie fan or cinema aficionado - I can reveal that I have never wavered in my support of the warm, womb-like caverns of the screen where, viewing all the convulsions of filmic life, from salivating aliens eyeing edible earthlings with soft centres to the clash of computer-created armies, domestic upheavals and megalomaniac crooks intent on global financial dictatorship, I have been comforted by seeing people worse off than I am.
Stressed toilers engulfed in a sick-note culture
SOME offices, as desk-bound toilers know, are not only places where bucks are passed, people can be promoted beyond the level of their incompetence, and boardrooms are riddled with intrigues rivalling those in 16th century Florence but are also a mixture of coffee bar, dating bureau, fashion catwalk, betting agency, sweat shop and gossip hothouse where, among pot plants, the grapevine is lovingly tended.
Blissful world of the cat's whisker radio
VENI, vidi, video - or words to the effect that I came to an electronic devices shop in 1982, saw a video cassette recorder I fancied, bought it but have only just conquered my latest one and, ironically, find VCRs are becoming as dead as dinosaurs, their retail place usurped by the DVD (digital versatile disc) players.
Secret world of the pro-active pensioner
BRITAIN’S fifty-and-sixty-something males, it seems, are defying advancing years by taking care of their personal appearance and attending, not only classical concerts but also pop and rock events. Still wearing denim, they have, according to the market analysts, Mintel, the idealism of the 1960s and are, of course, concerned about ethical consumerism and their responsibilities to society.
Anthems fail to strike a patriotic chord
THERE was a time when all the world was young, lad, when crisp curls clustered on my now bare, ruined scalp, when a second edition of my chin had not been published and when I was an example of imperialist obedience, who stood when the national anthem was played in cinemas, theatres and elsewhere while disrespectful crowds might stampede, like wildlife before a forest fire, towards the exits.
Builders take the biscuit for a job well done
FOLLOWING the metrical dictum of Hillaire Belloc, "It is the duty of the wealthy man to give employment to the artisan," the Morris household has been engaging the services of selfless citizens who have placed their energy and skills at our disposal for the esoteric tasks of roof repair and windows’ replacement.
Getting off the crowded moral high ground
WELL, here I am, at the topmost tip of the moral high ground, a place buffeted by winds austere and pure and as invigorating as a glass of tonic wine mixed with creosote.
Looking for...
Featured advertisers
Jobs
Search for a job
Motors
Search for a car
Property
Search for a house
Weather for Edinburgh
Wednesday 23 May 2012
Today
Sunny spells
Temperature: 12 C to 20 C
Wind Speed: 10 mph
Wind direction: North east
Tomorrow
Cloudy
Temperature: 12 C to 21 C
Wind Speed: 9 mph
Wind direction: North east
