Those Were The Days

Today I went to meet an old friend. We used to be quite the royster-doysters.*
_{Glasgow speak for good chums.}*

We both had children at the same time and haven't managed to see each other much in the same way we used to. That way being getting exceptionally pie-eyed in pubs and clubs. We were quite the geezers. In fact, as I thought on it, it had been almost three years since we had crossed paths as he had moved further away to the bitter north of Scotland.

He contacted me yesterday. He was down in Glasgow with the rest of his family. Did I want to meet up in the afternoon?

I thought this was a splendid idea and gave me the opportunity to give the good lady a rest by taking the little one out.

Off we trotted.

We met at the Riverside museum, a big modern piece of funk on the banks of the river Clyde which runs through Glasgow. I recognized him a mile away. Older sure but still the same guy. I tugged my little lady by the hand. She was being a little obstinate and wanted to play with some weeds by the roadside.

Come on lass, they are waiting!

I want to play with the plants. I don't want to meet your friend.

She faced me with a determined look on her face.

Lass, he is a really nice chap and also his son Owen is here and he is five. You will have lots of fun.

I don't like Knowin. He is yukky. I will NOT talk to him.

I bit my lip and counted to 20 millionteen in my head.

Oh never mind, they are coming to us.

And indeed they were. My old mate Billy swaggered over with his son Owen in tow. His son looked as happy as my daughter at the thought of meeting some random child.

We made our way into the museum. Contrary to my daughters outburst her and Owen did not seem to find each other yucky and had a whale of a time running around trying to break all the valuable stuffs.

Myself and Billy had many an opportunity to talk.

Been up to much recently?

He grinned as he said this. No doubt images of me flying down a hill in a shopping trolley whilst being exceedingly drunk going through his head.

Nah. Not much mate, usual old fatherhood pish. You?

I felt guilty for not having some debauched tale to tell. I looked at him hopefully, remembering the time he got a tattoo on his chuff whilst steaming drunk. Surely he would have a wild one to tell?

No really mate.

He looked a little crestfallen and went on to explain that much like me, fatherhood had pounded most of that nonsense out of his head.

We followed the kids around the museum and onto the tall ship which is permanently at harbour outside.

I remembered something.

You saw Mad Aldo lately?

I hadn't heard a peep from him for years. Mad Aldo, was as mad as seventeen badgers locked in a box. We used to all have quite the mental time. I knew him and Billy were tight. Perhaps Billy had a tale or two that we could vicariously live our lives through?

No, fraid not mate. He had a kid a few years ago. Calmed right down. Chucked the band and got a job and everything.

Wow. Even Mad Aldo had become un-mad. I wondered if he was just Alastair now. It felt like something fundamental had changed in the world.

The day was great fun but eventually came to an end.

We said our goodbye's. The little lady and Owen had made quite the friendship and were reluctant to part.

I shook Billy's hand.

Let me know when you are back in Glasgow mate. We will go out on the lash, carve the place up.

He looked at me, a wry and wistful smile on his face.

Yeah mate. Will do.

We both good naturedly knew this wasn't going to happen. It is nice to dream though.

Myself and the little lady got in the car.

Right lass, off home for us. You had a great day didn't you? Did you have lots of fun with Owen?

She shot me a look of disdain.

No, he was yukky.

Yes, of course he was.