Lockdown list to end them all: My 'top 10' excuses for running out of ideas – Kevan Christie

Kevan Christie goes a bit lockdown ‘stir crazy’ and finds himself plotting a Robin Hood-style raid on Edinburgh Castle with some merry men from Fife

Kevan Christie is thinking of becoming Robin Hood and leading a raid on Edinburgh Castle (Picture: Alan Murray)

I’ve hit the wall folks. It happens to the best of us and as we prepare to enter week seven of lockdown your trusted chronicler is chappin for stuff to write about – like a rookie dominoes player making their midweek debut in the Fife pub league. I put this down to self-isolation changing the way we’ve been thinking about things and the immediate world around us getting smaller. Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

I could go with one of the ‘lockdown lists’ that I’ve skillfully managed to avoid, but I can’t think of 10 albums I like and Rod Stewart’s Greatest Hits will blow a hole in what’s left of the street cred.

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As for the “name five footballers who made you love football” request, well I couldn’t work out how to get all the pictures to fit on Facebook and, anyway, side-foot the smelling salts over here for that snorefest... yawn. The list patter has been written about anyway, no-one puts The Rats by James Herbert, in their ‘top X books you’ve read of all time” – even though this was the only ‘novel’ I saw anyone at school reading on their way to smokers’ corner. I knew this was played out when I spotted someone listing their top five cheeses on Twitter and Babybel got a mention.

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I covered the strategically placed bookshelves backdrop to the Google Hingoots and the Zoomer meetings in week two of lockdown. Check.

At one point, I even contemplated breaking my golden column rule and writing about stuff I know nothing about – but no-one needs to hear another middle-aged, male columnist, give us his clunky take on the Gender Recognition Reform (Scotland) Bill. I was only a fishmonger’s daughter but I knew my plaice.

Nine pairs of trainers?

So, what have I learned during lockdown?

Well, a quick personal inventory has taught me that I probably don’t need the nine pairs of trainers that stare at me from the bottom of my cupboard every morning including the trendy vegan ones that I nearly matched with a leather jacket – awkward. The pink flamingo swimming trunks and the camouflage short-sleeved shirt aren’t likely to get an airing anytime soon, as I won’t be summering in Sitges and I guess what I’m trying to say here, dear readers, is we all could do with less clobber.

A couple of pairs of jogging bottoms and three t-shirts which I rotate throughout the week do me on the 10,000 step daily constitutional to Cowdenbeath and back which I covered in last week’s column. Check.

I’ll don a couple of hessian sacks when I eventually venture through to Edinburgh with a couple of trusted men from our village in the horse and cart armed with bows and arrows. I plan to pilfer livestock and whatever else we can get our hands on in a Robin Hood-style raid on their Castle – did someone mention going stir crazy?

So, what has been happening aside from the ongoing misery and tragedy being played out in the care homes?

A love of jam roly-poly

Well Boris and Carrie had a wee boy and the best of luck to them but the one story that caught my eye was the revelations by Assem Malhotra, a cardiologist who said the PM was badly affected by coronavirus because he is “significantly” overweight. Pass the Mini Cheddars and bring me his head.

The good doctor finally mentioned the elephant in the Boris bedroom and added that the risk of death from the dreaded disease increased ten-fold if the patient is obese.

I long suspected that Johnson’s love of the jam roly-poly, with him weighing in around 16 stone at just 5 feet 9inches in his Cuban heels, contributed to his ‘life or death’ predicament and now Dr Malhotra has confirmed it.

Skinnier colleagues like Matt Hancock and Chris Whitty who got the virus, did not get it as badly as old BoJo, who may now think twice before having that extra tattie on his plate.

I’m having a one-man office sweep with myself about when we come out of lockdown and I’ve picked 25 May at the earliest, having done the usual extensive research and found out Wuhan kept strict measures in place for 10 weeks.

The day of reckoning

That and the creeping upwards of the all-important R0 number in Germany will move Boris in the direction of caution, somewhere he wants to go anyway. I’m already sensing the mood music is for at least another three weeks and I think there’s zero danger of Oor Nicola blinking first and bringing Scotland out early doors.

She’s way too shrewd for that strategy which is a likely ‘lose-lose’ scenario for unquantifiable financial gain when the economy is already on its knees. No, that decision will be for Johnson alone.

I find it amazing that people think we’ve done anything different in Scotland in terms of dealing with the pandemic. Sure Nicola can do the standing up talking bit really well but we’ve had exactly the same nightmares in terms of a lack of testing and personal protective equipment as the rest of the UK.

The day of reckoning will come for both governments sometime in the next 10-15 years when the inevitable inquiry into the many mistakes finally concludes.

Well, congratulations are in order folks. We got there in the end and I’m off to celebrate as the grey bins (paper and cardboard) are finally getting picked up by Fife Cooncil’s finest.

I was beginning to think it was Christmas there with all the empty chocolate boxes mounting up.

Stay safe and wash yer hands.

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