Sometimes shopping in the Asda At Toryglen can be Hell on Earth; literally the most stressful experience you can imagine.

The absolute worst is when you try and pay for your Messages at the ..Express Lane... “Express”? Pah! Anything but. Now, I’ll admit freely that I was not at the front of the line when patience was being handed out and I find it very difficult to wait my turn in a queue but the ..Express Lane.. in Asda At Toryglen is my own personal, private Inferno.

The word “Express” suggests speed. Nothing could be further from the truth. I always take my backpack to carry my shopping home in, a habit I picked up from Tony and Alys. If you’re using your own bag you have to wait until a member of staff is free to log in and clear it. That can take minutes, further diluting the accuracy of the “Express” claim. Often the staff are helping other ..Express Lane.. users, but often they seem to congregate in groups of four and talk about whatever “He” has been up to now. What’s so annoying is the bag check procedure takes seconds and the wait before having this done for you is the most frustrating thing of all.

By way of contrast my shopping this morning was almost pleasant.

I wandered down on a gloriously fresh and sunny morning and was in and out the store in about five minutes. Potatoes and carrots; sly look at “Doctor Who Adventures” and “Nuts” magazines and then round to buy the mince where I was confronted with the other nasty aspect of shopping in Asda At Toryglen – other customers.

A member of staff standing stickering some clearance items was approached by a trio of sub-human track suit wearers of differing ages and the youngest, malest one grunted “Whaurs yer sauces?” The member of staff looked puzzled before the three clarified as one “YER SAUCES?”

I moved on from this little tableau and at once saw the other nasty aspect of other punters; the ones who snipe at each other instead of at the staff.

A young couple, she is pushing the trolley. (I nearly wrote “pram”, Hmmm, shopping as surrogacy for child rearing?) He has spotted an item that he quite fancies. She responds with “Look, come on, we huvnae got time”. Wow, I thought, he’s gonna pay for that later. A million and one things could be gleamed from one short exchange. Sometimes I’m glad I’m single.

On with the shopping. Two packets of ten cheese slices are cheaper than a packet of twenty. Result! ....Chicago.. ..Town.... pizzas are down to a pound a packet. Result! Maybe they aren’t selling any “Only Fools & Horses” box sets for thruppence this week. Fresh For a Week wholemeal is in stock. Result! And there’s no queue at the checkout at the end of the aisle so I don’t have to risk the ..Express Lane...

I’m asked if I need a hand with my shopping and I decline politely. My shopping costs Fifteen Twenty Nine and the lady at the till even laughs at my standard “Year I was born” joke. Moments later I’m back out in the sunshine, scarcely a cloud in the sky.

All human life is here: the routines, the rivalries and the conflict and the little triumphs and the pleasant moments. Just don’t expect to get through the ..Express Lane.. in anything under three-quarters of an hour.

Lunch now, read another issue of “Hourman”, out for a swim and then I’m going to write the Pertwee blog. Oh yes.

Bob Scott’s funeral today; three in the afternoon at Paisley crematorium.

It didn’t really hit me that he’s gone until we were at the crematorium and the hearse drew up. The turn-out was massive; standing room only. We made sure we headed in to the building as soon as the last of the family did. Hell, we are family.

In 2006 Iain Smith died, another much-loved family friend. Robert dying has reminded me a little of how I felt at that time. It’s very hard to quantify the impact of losing someone you have literally known for your whole life.

My parents and Robert had been neighbours for forty years. It used to be Robert and his wife Cathy and their two kids Jean and Alex. When my parents were working weird shifts when I was very young I used to go through to Uncle Bob and Aunt Cathy’s in the mornings. We’d drive Cathy to her work at Brown & Poulson off ..

I remember when Jean got married and had kids of her own; Stuart and Ross. I remember the terrible night in October 1999 when Cathy died and Robert calling on Mum to go through and help…

A massive turn-out today. The men from Robert’s bowling club formed a guard of honour as the coffin was carried in. One of the hymns was “Will Your Anchor Hold” which we sang at my Grampa Bain’s funeral in 1996. The minister who took the service looked like Peter Cushing in "Captain Clegg"and paid tribute to Robert in fine style; reflecting on his years as an under-taker and his solidness as a person.

Lots of little memories unlocking themselves. When Toby was a pup and Bob muttering to me that he couldn’t wait until Tobes was bigger and he could “knock seven colours of shit out of him”. The last time I saw him? October last year when I was visiting Foxbar? Something like that.

The crem was so full that it took ages to empty after the service. We were virtually the last out and it really hit me when I was shaking hands with Alex, Jean and Stuart.

Mum, Dad, Ali and I all went back to the Tea that was being held at Bob’s bowling club in the West End of Paisley. When we got there Stuart was handing everyone who came in a raffle ticket that got them a free drink at the bar.

There is a cliché about getting older and how you only see certain people at weddings and funerals. That was proved today as I chatted to Lorna who is the daughter of Robert’s niece. Her brother Kenneth was there but I don’t think he remembered me from the days when we were tiny and he’d knock on our back door and ask my Mum if he could play on our swing. Mum had to remind me of that but it all came flooding back. It was nice to se Lorna; I think the last time I’d properly spoken to her was when Bob hired a mini-bus to take us to ....Edinburgh.... for the Tattoo in 1992.

We left around five and I had the dreadful realisation that while it had been years since I had last seen Stuart or Ross or Jean or Lorna, that after today the chances are that I’ll never actually see any of them again.

Today wasn’t just about saying goodbye to Robert; it was about saying goodbye to a whole part of my early life just as I was reminded of it.

 Robert’s family will sell the house and someone else will move into number 1. I thought today about how important a part of my life the Scott family has/had been. These days hardly anyone knows their neighbours. I’ve lived in my building for nearly ten years and am only really on nodding terms with the Noisy Prick Downstairs and with Bella, the Cairn terrier who lives on the ground floor. Robert and Cathy were a part of my family, far more than just neighbours.

I paid my first visit of the year to the theatre tonight and it was almost against my will.

A few weeks ago my friend the writer and performer Iain Heggie let it be known through Facebook that he would be directing a play at the Tron Theatre called “Anguish with Posie”. I’m always keen to encourage friends in their artistic endeavours so I thought “Good good” and decided I’d see the play and show some support.

I’d seen Iain’s work at the Tron before; in 2001 he’d directed “Beauty Queen of Lenanne”, In 2002 I saw a play he’d written called “Love Freaks” and way back in September 2000 I’d thoroughly enjoyed an evening of improvised work from some of Iain’s drama students. I also saw his play “Wiping my Mother’s Arse” at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2001 and a couple of years ago I adored his “Tobacco Merchant’s Lawyer” at the Oran Mor.

It had been a while since I’d seen any Heggie so I was actually quite looking forward to seeing this play. Heggie’s stuff has a very particular quality.

 A day or two after Iain sent out his email I visited the Tron box office and asked for a ticket for “that play that Heggie’s directing” (I’d forgotten the title) and got a seat for the Saturday.

Imagine my chagrin a few hours later when I got home to find that Iain had sent another email round Facebook saying that he had actually walked from the project and wouldn’t now be involved after all. He apologised and cited “creative differences” and assured us that refunds would be available. Amusingly I bumped into him at the cinema the next evening when Jules and I were going to see “Sherlock Holmes”. He said the play was worth going to see but I should be able to get a refund if I wanted…

As January wore on I realised that from an economic point of view getting a refund on an essentially unwanted theatre ticket would be very beneficial.

Once again I visited the Tron theatre box office and explained that I’d bought a ticket for “Anguish with Posie” because my friend Iain was involved and as he was no longer involved I wasn’t that fussed about going. The nice man at the box office explained that they didn’t actually do refunds. As such.

What they could do was take my ticket and try and sell it for me. If it sold they would detract a processing fee (of a quid) and send a cheque for the balance straight out. However, the nice man at the box office admitted that the play wasn’t selling particularly well and he couldn’t promise that my ticket would sell.

“So,” I said “What you’re essentially saying is that it would probably be much easier for all concerned if I just went to see the play?”

The box office man replied in the affirmative. So tonight after work I wandered along Argyle to the Tron and took my seat. The play was being staged in the small Changing House studio upstairs which was also where I’d seen the wonderful “Improv” night almost a decade ago.

Happily just about every seat ended up being sat on. Maybe I could have sold my ticket?

“Anguish with Posie” was written by its’ star, one Ian Macpherson. (I wonder if it’s autobiographical.) The story is about a writer eventually becoming reconciled with his estranged daughter who he hasn’t seen for many years. A two-hander with Ian Macpherson playing a writer called Angus and Nicola Daley as Posie. (The title being a clever play on the character’s names. Good eh?)

It wasn’t a challenging piece by any standards and it was easy enough to work out the relationship between the characters. There were a good many funny lines and the running gag of a downstairs neighbour playing loud music tickled me. (Say what you like about the Prick Downstairs from Chateau Steel; at least he’s never played “Una Paloma Blanca” like the woman downstairs in the play.)

Macpherson was a little stiff as Angus. I’m told he’s principally a comedian so drama may not be his strong point. I feel that in a more experienced pair of hands (or stronger director?) the material may have benefited. The performance wasn’t a disaster by any means; he raised quite a few chuckles. The previous play that I’d seen Heggie direct had mined a deep vein of black humour and I could see the potential for this here. I wonder if Macpherson was too protective of his work.

Final year drama student Nicola Daley was very breezy as Danni/Posie. (Great legs) She made her character very likeable and I really enjoyed the warm closing scene as the re-united father and daughter started writing together and making up for lost time.

All told I’m glad I went; it was pleasant enough little piece and the spontaneous/for the hell of it aspect of going was part of the enjoyment. If anything it makes me keener to take the odd punt on going to see a play that I know nothing about or don’t have an investment in.

(Smiles happily in a warm glow)

The DC Comics series “Starman” ran for 82 issues between 1994 and 2001. That was 80 regular issues, a Zero issue and issue #1,000,000.

At first I didn’t care too much about the series as I wasn’t a huge fan of the Golden Age Starman (he was never my favourite member of the JSA or the All-Star Squadron) having always found him a little dull but I kept buying the series and eventually started reading it from the start around the publication of issue 20 or so. I enjoyed the story about the shirt, was impressed by the narrative approach of “Sins of the Father” and ultimately hooked completely by the issue that finished with Matt and the Shade getting trapped in the poster.

“Starman” got me onto the DC message boards where I made some new friends; it influenced me into getting tattooed and experimenting with facial hair ear-rings, it gave me my e-mail password and thanks to its’ characters, stories and respect of the DC Golden Age eventually ended up being my favourite DC Comic of all time.

DC is currently in the midst of their latest multi-issue cross-over “Event”: “Blackest Night”. The issues of the core series and the many tie-in books have varied from hugely enjoyable to almost unreadable. James Robinson who wrote “Starman” is already delighting and inspiring me with the three issue “JSA: Blackest Night” and he’s also involved with another tie-in project.

“Blackest Night” features lots of characters who have died coming back as evil Black Lantern “zombies”. As an exciting part of the proceedings DC have “resurrected” a number of its’ titles that are no longer being published in order to tell more of the stories that are happening during the Blackest Night. Some books like “Phantom Stranger” or “Weird Western Tales” have been gone for decades while others like “Catwoman” ended fairly recently. Two of the series being revived for one night only were particular favourites of mine: “Power of Shazam” and, you guessed it, “Starman”!

Part of the fun about “Starman” when it was still being published was trying to guess the identity of the Starman of 1951. When it was announced that “Starman” was coming back and that The Shade would face a Black Lantern Starman there was a return to the glory days of wondering who that Starman would be. I didn’t think it would be Ted as he and the Mist were blown up at the end of “Grand Gignol”; could we instead see “Talking with David 2010”?

Almost, but not quite.

The “Starman” series was chiefly about Jack Knight who was the son of the original, “Golden Age” Starman and his coming to terms with being a hero; living up to his father’s legacy and forging his own. It was also about ....Opal.. ..City.... and the other people who lived there as well as Jack. The series ended with Jack leaving the Opal and he has never been seen in a comic again apart from in flashback which means that the special “Blackest Night” issue of “Starman” features some other members of the cast.

Reading issue 81 on Wednesday night (published almost nine years after the last one, that’s longer than the series was actually published for!) was a joyous experience. More than a little nostalgic, I won’t lie. Jack was absent as expected but seeing The Shade, Mason, Clarence and Hope again was wonderful. The supporting cast were such a big part of the book that they often carried whole issues without Jack being present, so his not being around this time wasn’t such a big deal.

We saw the Opal again which was wonderful. Is it daft to say I’ve missed the place? Hahaha! And there was lots of development for characters who felt like old friends. Mason and Charity are going to be parents! The relationship between Hope and The Shade reminded me a little of some chapters from The Shade’s past; his bad luck with that sort of stuff. And he even arrived late for the big fight- as usual! And he made a great entrance and got the best jokes – as usual! Yes!

I imagine for anyone reading “Starman” 81 purely because it was part of the crossover event and not because they were fans of the original series that it may have been a little unsatisfying. I will be honest and say that James Robinson didn’t really break new ground with the story but he did succeed in reminding me how much I loved the series and he managed it without damaging the legacy. A couple of the other revived one-shots have been a little disappointing.

More than anything it’s made me realise how much I have missed the Opal and its’ citizens. Maybe we will never see Jack Knight again in the pages of the DCU. But could we maybe see some more of ....Opal.. ..City...., the O’Dares and The Shade…?

Rhythm is a fucking dancer…

Shit follows shit. Sorry for swearing Mum.

Right then. My Dad has been getting treated for prostate cancer. He spent a week in the Beatson a couple of months ago receiving some radiotherapy. He’s been on steroids and last week got his second quarterly hormone injection. He’s been making regular visits to the hospital and the Doctors.

Further to this my Mum and Dad’s neighbour, Robert Scott, who they’ve lived next to for forty years and who I called Uncle Bob when I was a kid, has also been ill from the “C” word. On Saturday I got a text from my Mum asking me to give her a call, which I did, and she had to tell me the terrible news that Robert had died that morning. Funeral’s next Monday.

I’ve been worried about my Dad, obviously. Preparing for the worst but hoping against it.There’s been so much other pain and disappointment recently; losing my little mate David Revells and the lingering damage caused by another romantic “distraction”. Hearing that Bob had died was awful but I still feel like I’m waiting to react. It’s almost like all the shit has rendered me immune or maybe I’m finally developing a thicker skin? Losing someone you’ve known your whole life is difficult to quantify.

Today I gave my Mum a call at lunchtime to see how things were and heard more bad news .Some count or other in my Dad’s blood that they’d hoped would go down had actually gone up. The result being that my Dad will soon be going in for chemotherapy.

My Mum also told me that my Dad’s brother, Uncle John, had also learned that he was showing signs of prostate cancer after having a test himself.

It’s weird. I think a few months ago this would all have floored me. I’m not sure why I’m feeling so level about it.

Maybe because it’s because I’m having enough good days at work to distract me. Friday was great; the work experience kids all on the floor helping me and getting stuck in and getting “The Writer’s Tale” for ten percent off in Waterstones because something had been spilt on it. Yesterday, with all the jobs getting done and loads of pure cards and rescuing the man from the lift. And wearing my scarf cos my neck still hurts.

Maybe it’s cos it’s a new decade and I’ve left all my shit at the door.

Or maybe it’s the brilliant first issue of “JSA: Blackest Night” reminding of why I got that tattoo and why I was inspired by Terry Sloane. Fair Play.

Or maybe I’ve finally realised that in certain situations worrying doesn’t do you any good. There are some things that you can influence and some that you can’t.

Either way, right now I feel ready for anything. I’ve always bounced back and I have a definite irrepressible quality. Right now? I’m as mad as hell and I’m not taking it any more.

I might not be able to do anything to directly help my sick relatives but I’m still here. And that makes all the difference.

Yes, it’s an inevitable blog about the cold weather we’ve been having.

I don’t know about you but I’m getting a bit fed up with the icy pavements and the cold. How long’s it been now? When we left the shop after the last Night shift I did the snow had started falling. That was, what, the twentieth of December? That’s three weeks! Jeez.

I don’t remember the snow hanging about for this long. I remember December 1995 being a bad one – a white Christmas and a burst pipe. I also remember it snowed on Christmas morning in 2000; the first Christmas morning I spent in my own flat. That was nice.

But I’m really bored with it now. It takes longer to walk to work because of the snow but I do have it easier than some of my colleagues who rely on public transport. Cazza has been stuck on buses and Didi seems rather tired of Emergency Replacement bus services. The trains that run out our way are a bit scattered too. The other night I decided to get the train home and walked along to Central to find Cathcart services cancelled and the next train that might go our way wasn’t for half an hour. I ended up walking anyway.

The Local Authorities were a bit slow in getting the gritter vans out – I went on my arse on ..

And our shop is filthy; so much mud and snow being walked into the place. Solomon seemed to spend the whole other day brushing muddy water back out the door. And of course the shop has been freezing too. It’s not been too bad in our toasty little basement but the troops on the ground floor are suffering. Fleeces were being handed out and hot drinks provided. Shepherd parading around in his scarf and fingerless gloves. I wasn’t even sure we were open the other day when I arrived and the doors were shut.

One thing I did learn this week was that the minimum temperature a person should work in is 16 degrees C. Interesting.

Oh, and the last of the temps finished yesterday. Rubbish.

Not just our shop has suffered. Daniel told me the other day that his branch of Tesco was sold out of loads of stuff because of panic buying. “People are scared” Dan was told by a Tesco staff member as he was unable to stock up on Skittles, Relentless and Doritos. 

Our Shug has had a dreadful time at home thanks to a burst pipe upstairs causing his bathroom ceiling to collapse. Ross and I were a little concerned when absolutely no water was leaving our taps and the cistern wasn’t refilling. After a little while there gurgling sounds but then I had my breakfast. Soon after the taps started spurting and normal service resumed.

Three weeks of all this. Really getting bored. I’m a Spring baby. It needs to be sunny warm.

I didn’t want him to go either. Tennant has become so familiar and accepted as the Doctor. I found the final scene to be incredibly moving. This has been a Doctor who loved life and his final words were devastating. He kept his eyes open to the last, watching the energy flow from his hands: one final glorious sight to behold.

I enjoyed part two of “The End of Time” much more than I thought I would. Most of my fears about Tennant’s final episode being over-indulgent and unsatisfying thankfully didn’t come to pass and there were even a few pleasant surprises. Admittedly the final twenty minutes were massively over-indulgent, weren’t they? The spoilers I’d seen during the summer had let me to expect much of what we saw in the final act but I even though I knew what was coming in most cases I still found a lot to enjoy.

Even seeing Rose again didn’t upset me. It was clear though that the scene between Luke and the Doctor was written and filmed before the Doctor’s appearance in “SJA” was decided on. I wasn’t too fond of the idea of Martha as a gun-toting mercenary and the info-dump dialogue she shared with Mickey grated a little too. And I found the inclusion of Russell Tovey as Midshipman Frame to be utterly pointless and the height/depth of Davies’ indulgence.

I did wonder how the Doctor managed to stave of the regeneration for so long. But then, Tristan Farnon managed in his last story didn’t he? I think the Tenth Doctor must have had a  busy 45 minutes bombing round empty factories, sleazy bars, weddings and book signings.

Overall though I think they managed to avoid the “Pantomime walk-down” I’d been dreading in my nightmares.

I had expected the whole episode to be more indulgent of Russell T Davies than it ended up being but there was enough emphasis on the plot of the episode and the balance ended up being okay. I still think Russell has trouble pacing his scripts sometimes. Rather like “The Runaway Bride” in 2006 there was a dreadful sag in the middle and I felt that the Doctor’s involvement was too minimal for too long. At one point it looked like Tennant would follow his successor and spend his last episode re-wiring some plugs but the balance was redressed in the final half of the programme.

The idea of the four-beat signal being in the Master’s head came over like a better-explained version of “Bad Wolf” from the Eccleston series.  

As in part one the most impressive performance came from John Simm who gave us a much more rounded Master than he had done at any point in the past. He must have been knackered after all those costume changes. The sight of all the myriad John Simms was hilarious. I hope he comes back.

Cribbins was great, but when has he ever been anything less? (In anything? I watched his “....Fawlty.. ..Towers....” episode last week and he was brilliant.) It was wonderful to see Wilf’s obvious love for the Doctor; both in the scene on the spaceship and at Donna’s wedding. And Donna’s Mum was great too. I liked how Donna’s involvement was kept to a minimum. This was her Grampa’s story.

As it was Russell’s last episode it wasn’t that much of a surprise to see the Time War. I loved the little list of Time War “beasties”; the Nightmare Child and the Hoard of Travesties and all that, made all the more thrilling by not being seen. (“This is the Could Have Been King .He cannot be seen. Now I’m going to ask him to stand up. Could Have Been King, will you stand up, please?”)

What was nice was to see the Time Lords in a style very reminiscent of how they appeared in the “New Adventures” in the 90s. And after an episode of me saying “But what’s he called?!” in reference to ....Dalton....’s character I was floored by the casual use of the name Rassilon. Annoyingly, my mate Higgins guessed that was who he was. Imagine! The Time War is in full flow and the Time Lords rouse Rassilon from his slumber in the Death Zone for one last fight… Wow. Sometimes Russell dazzled me.

What else? Cribbins playing “Star Wars” was joyous. I loved the Doctor falling through the window. Terribly exciting. The confrontation between the Doctor, the Master and Rassilon was great too and I didn’t mind the whole return of Gallifrey being stopped by a single bullet. The return of Gallifrey was incredibly exciting. Part of me wishes it could have stayed. And did Rassilon have the glove from “Torchwood”? I shall have to re-watch the relevant episodes.

And the moment when the Doctor thought he had won and everything was going to be okay. And then Wilf knocked four times. Heartbreaking. Of course we all expected “He will knock four times” to be about the Master, a terrific piece of misdirection that ended up answering the Doctor’s questions about Wilf and why they kept meeting. I loved the Doctor’s rage against the unfairness of it all. But that’s the point.

The final scene then; Ood Sigma popping up in the snow again did spoil the moment a little but I was in floods. The Tenth Doctor was a man who loved life and loved new experiences and loved sharing them with others but constantly found himself on his own. It was so sad to see him on his own as his life ended. His final words were a contrast to the acceptance of his predecessor of his fate. I didn’t want him to go but I suppose he couldn’t stay forever. I still feel that Tennant would have been better served to have gone at the end of a full series.

Yeah, I was in floods. As David vanished and Matt took his place I went from bawling my eyes out to laughing joyously at the new guy. “Nose… I’ve had worse…” Genius. “And still not Ginger!” I was hyper-ventilating by the credits.

After “Confidential” there was a trailer for the new series to come. Daleks, vampires and Weeping Angels and a hot redhead who dresses to kill. Matt Smith and his team have a lot to do; Tennant has been a massive part of the popularity of “Doctor Who” since its’ return (five years ago!) and one hopes that the Moffatt/Smith era will be as popular. Certainly I think that the Russell trademark of soap opera-like emotional content and recurring character situations will not be so much in the foreground. My gut tells me that the new stuff will be more traditional…

So thanks Russell. For bringing back my favourite show and making it so popular. And thanks to David for being so bright, clever and smiley. I can’t quite take it in that you’ve gone…

One of my strongest memories from childhood is watching the final episode of the “Doctor Who” story “Logopolis”. At the climax of this story the Doctor (played by Tom Baker) hung from a gantry on a massive radio telescope and the faces of some of the monsters and villains he’d faced were flashed up on screen. The Doctor fell to the ground and we saw the faces of the friends who used to travel with him.

I remember in my young mind making the association that this was the Doctor’s life flashing before his eyes. I didn’t recognise all the people whose faces appeared on screen but grasped what was going on. I remember exclaiming “Mum! It’s one of those ones!”. “Those ones” being the stories when the Doctor changed. They didn’t happen that often but I knew that they did. And sure enough… the Watcher merged with the Doctor and was revealed to be none other than Tristan Farnon from “All Creatures Great and Small”.

It was the best thing I have ever seen.

And now we are on the brink of another “one when the Doctor changes”. Later today will see the broadcast of David Tennant’s final episode.

I have vague memories of when I first became aware that Doctor Who sometimes changed into other people. An episode of “Screen Test” that featured a clip from “Daleks: Invasion Earth 2150 A.D.” led to my Dad explaining that the man with white hair and the pale blue scarf was the Doctor. “Fair enough”, I thought, “His scarf is a bit different, okay, I can handle that.”

I remember going to the Shows at the Kelvin Hall, late seventies maybe? Amidst all the Elvis mirrors and games with rings and hooks I recall large painted hoardings that featured characters from “Thunderbirds” and one with the words “Doctor Who” painted on them but showing a man with black hair wearing a black coat and not a man with curly hair and a long scarf. My first experience of Patrick Troughton?

At some point I would have seen the book covers in the library and at school and learned that the man who played the terrifying Wurzel Gummidge used to be Doctor Who (and what a revelation he was when I saw him in the “Five Faces” repeat season.).

After seeing the Fifth Doctor arrive in “Logopolis” there was no turning back. “Doctor Who” went from being a programme that we watched to become something I was utterly fascinated by and something I grew to love. I think the shock of the regeneration happening had a great deal to do with that initial excitement.

It’s always puzzled me that I had no idea that Tom was leaving. I was a bright kid; I read the paper. I wonder how different things would have been if I’d known what was going to happen.

It feels weird knowing that Tennant will be off in a few hours. I’ve become so used to his Doctor.

When Tristan Farnon left in 1984 his successor had been announced the previous summer. I remember being in Foxbar library with Derek Roy and looking through an issue of the “Return of the Jedi” comic that had an advert for Doctor Who magazine and gave me the information that Farnon’s last story was called “The Twin Dilemma”. Soon after I got the actual magazine and learned that this story was actually the first for Colin Baker.

I remember the news of Colin leaving being announced before the end of “Trial of a Time Lord” and Alan Kirkpatrick and me assuming that the climax would deal with the regeneration. Of course, Colin didn’t film a regeneration and it wasn’t until the start of “Time and the Rani” that we saw the changeover.

The evening of the broadcast of the first part of Doctor McCoy’s first story saw the creation of a tradition that my sister and I maintain to this day. In order to kill some time before “Doctor Who” started we walked along ..

Sylvester’s “leaving” took place during the awful TV Movie. It was very moving as I’d followed the Seventh doctor for a few years in “The New Adventures” books. True, I hated him by that point; all his scheming and plotting had lead me to give him the nickname of the “little bastard”. Despite that it was sad to see him go.

The news that Chris Eccleston was leaving emerged something like two days after the broadcast of his first episode. Amusingly a week or two earlier I had said to Rossco that this guy David Tennant who had just been so good in “Casanova” would be a great Doctor in ten years time.

I remember how disappointed I was with the Ninth Doctor’s final episode. Hardly the most dramatically satisfying end – spending twenty minutes re-wiring plugs. I was heartbroken after his final scene. In such a short time I had grown very fond of the one from the North.

And now it’s time for another change. It’s unusual this time in that the plot and, very emphatically, the dialogue are referencing the fact. It’s just a shame that it’s not happening at the end of a series.   Momentum and all that.

So, a few hours to go. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be painless. How will they stop the Master? How can the Time Lords still be alive? And why do the Doctor and Wilf keep meeting? What ties their destinies together?

We’ll find out very soon. Good luck everyone. Don’t let me down Russell.

To be utterly honest, I wasn’t expecting to enjoy the latest episode of “Doctor Who” as much as I did but I did and my jaw was on the floor at the end of the episode…

The final minutes of November’s “The Waters of Mars” had left me a little unsatisfied; I felt they were badly written, directed and acted. (You know things are bad when a five minute scene gets discussed and explained for fifteen minutes on behind the scenes show “Doctor Who Confidential”.) The short preview of “The End of Time” that was shown on “Chidlers Want Money” hadn’t encouraged me much either; a self-consciously “wacky” Doctor and tiresome references to previous episodes that “explained” insignificant pieces of “continuity” had me expecting a  bloated and typically self-indulgent episode from the pen of Russell Television Davies.

To my shame I’d read a lot of spoilers during the summer but I was surprised at how very few of them featured in part one of “The End of Time”. (I’m guessing they’ll show up in part two. I won’t discuss them here.) As a result I found part one of David Tennant’s swan song to be much more enjoyable than I thought.

It wasn’t perfect by any means. The green and spiked aliens really added nothing to the episode. I got the feeling they were there to sell action figures or to fulfil some contractual obligation that Davies must have a daft alien in his stories. The Immortality Gate was supposedly recovered from Torchwood; couldn’t they just have been former Torchwood scientists?

While there was much to enjoy in the performances of almost everyone involved there was maybe not enough light relief for a Christmas episode. This was certainly the “darkest” the programme has been since it came back what with its’ skeletons, insane Master and teary Doctor. It was maybe also too obviously all “set up” for what is to come on New Years Day. Perhaps “Act One” would have been more appropriate than “Part One”?

So what did I like? Well, Cribbins was terrific obviously. John Simm was fantastic as an utterly deranged but still sharp as a tack Master of Disguise and Tennant continued to bring many shades and layers to his performance. The scene in the café between Wilfred and the Doctor was nothing less than beautiful. I blubbed at the talk of how each regeneration means death for each Doctor’s persona.  I suppose it shows that sometimes Davies can be capable of subtlety. It was great to see Wilf and the Doctor side by side; I remember feeling disappointed that Wilf never got a trip in the TARDIS during series four.

Less subtle were the scenes of the Master eating his way round ....London..... Having watched the original Master Roger Delgado’s episodes in recent months it was fascinating seeing this insane individual in action and Simm is to be congratulated for staying true to what he did in 2007 and for developing him further.

The Master hijacking the Gate and turning everyone on Earth into himself was utterly bonkers but admirable owing to his opportunistic use of what was to hand.

But what happens next?

It will be interesting to see how long we all stay looking like John Simm (or Malkovitch?) in part two. The reveal at the end of part one of Timothy Dalton and dozens of CGI Time Lords makes me wonder how much emphasis they will be given in part two. The drum beat in the Master’s head reminds me of how the Doctor was revealed to have all the Time Lords in his head during the final BBC books starring the Eighth Doctor. The mention of the Immortality Gate being able to rewrite a population makes me wonder if the Gate will be involved in bringing Gallifrey back to life.

And I’m still mindful of the spoilers I saw and read during the summer. I actually expected to see one of them in part one when I saw photos of the Doctor and Wilf carrying a book. We shall see.

And I wonder what Wilf will do in part two given the Woman Who Only Wilf can see and what she said about a “call to arms”. (The trailer that was on after “Hamlet” gives some idea.)

But most of all, I wonder how the Doctor will go? It’s interesting how much it’s being referenced in the dialogue. (unlike last time when Chris spent his last episode re-wiring plugs) And a couple of shots in the “Next Time” and the separate trailer make it look like it will be rather painful.

What worries me most about part two is that as well as being the final Tennant episode it is also of course the final Russell T Davies episode. The pantomime walk-down climax to series four makes me fear that we’ll see something similar this time. Davies can be incredibly self-indulgent (Aye, says me!) in his writing; the worst example being the pointless dialogue involving Eve Myles playing two roles that we were thrown during “Journey’s End”.

As I say, I’ve read and seen a few spoilers from the filming of “The End of Time” and I worry that they will overshadow the main event: i.e. the departure of a brilliant actor who has taken “Doctor Who” to heights of popularity that were undreamt of only five years ago. I only hope that the Doctor can remain at the centre of his own show and that Tennant gets the farewell episode he deserves.

As another year draws to a close it’s time for my annual overview of the gigs and concerts that I’ve been to. So here it is: Gigs 2009!

It’s been an unsatisfying year in a number of ways and I have to be honest that looking back over the year’s musical adventures there aren’t that many gigs that I recall being particularly memorable, even if they were all enjoyable enough in their own right. I also bought much less new music this year than I did last year which will have an impact when/if I do my “Best of 2009” CD.

As usual I kept a little list of the gigs I went to in my old 96/97 diary with details of who I was at each show with and a one word review that summed up my immediate reaction. The vast majority of the one word reviews are positive and enthusiastic but when I tried to pick a Top Ten for the year I struggled to pick ten shows that I remembered enjoying enough to want to highlight them above the others.

Anyway, here’s the full list of gigs I went to this year and my encapsulated heat of the moment analyses:

Duke Special (Cabaret Voltaire, Edinburgh): Wonderful

All-American Rejects (Garage, ....Glasgow....): Great!

The Script / Gary Go (Academy, ....Glasgow....): Unsurprising.

Doves (Barrowlands, Glasgow): Good, yeah.

Camera Obscura / Attic Lights (Barrowlands, Glasgow): Brilliant.

Duke Special (....Oran.... Mor, Glasgow): Hmmm…

Solid Silver 60s Show – The Searchers, John Walker, Wayne Fontana, The Merseybeats, The Dakotas (Royal Concert Hall, ....Glasgow....): Awesome

Ladyhawke (Q.M.U., Glasgow): Excellent.

Patrick Wolf / Yacht (Classic Grand, ....Glasgow....): Amazin’.

Take That / James Morrison / Gary Go (..Hampden.. ..Park.., ....Glasgow....): Spectacular!

Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band (..Hampden.. ..Park.., ....Glasgow....): F-ing joyous.

Frankmusik (King Tuts Wah Wah Hut): Brilliant.

Back to the Cavern – Gerry Marsden, Chip Hawkes, The Complete Beatles (Old Fruit Market, ....Glasgow....): Amazing.

Cliff Richard & The Shadows (S.E.C.C., ....Glasgow....): Wonderful.

Richard Hawley / Smoke Fairies (Old Fruit Market, ....Glasgow....): A Tonic.

Delays (King Tuts Wah Wah Hut, Glasgow): Yeah…

The Fall / The Merchants (Renfrew Ferry, Glasgow): Astonishing

Bill Wyman’s Rhythm Kings (Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow): Outstanding!

..Bell.. x-1 (....Oran.... Mor, Glasgow): Wonderful.

The Bootleg Beatles (Royal Concert Hall, ....Glasgow....): Stunning.

Not counting seeing my friend’s bands I went to twenty gigs this year. That’s five less than last year and one more than I managed in my “Year Zero” for Gig Going -1996.

There were a few acts that I saw for the first time this year that I’m particularly glad to have seen like Bruce Springsteen and The Fall. I was also glad to see Ladyhawke as her album has been one of my most played this year. It was great to see Take That again and a joy to see Cliff and the Shadows.

On the whole it felt like a quieter year than normal. A few more “gambles” than last year in the shape of Camera Obscura and ....Bell.... x-1 but gambles that paid off. Being honest there were a few less acts that I really like that I got to go and see compared to the last few years.

I think I realised this year that I had moved on a little in my listening tastes as I didn’t get as much from seeing Duke Special as I had done in the past (especially as Chip Bailey was missing from one of the gigs) but my love for 60s Pop is still as string as ever and I was particularly glad to see people like Georgie Fame, John Walker and Chip Hawkes.

I also went to a couple of new venues which was pretty cool. My first visit to the Renfrew Ferry and two visits to the Old Fruit Market in the space of a week!

Top Six Gigs of 2009

1)      ....Bell.... x-1. On the back of the band playing a beautiful rendition of the one song of theirs that I knew. So affecting and uplifting that talking about a few weeks later still filled me with absolute joy.

2)      Take That. Perhaps inevitable. ....Gary...., Mark, How and Jason. And the elephant! A stunning show from a band who really don’t have to try as hard as they do. I cried how many times?

3)      Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band. So glad that I have finally seen him live. Three hours! Amazing.

4)      Ladyhawke. Here because of the sheer quality of the music that translated well to being played live. And a gig at the Q.M.U. that I enjoyed! For once!

5)      Back to the Cavern. This has the edge on the other 60s shows I went to this year, mainly for consistency and for opening my eyes to just how good The Tremeloes actually were.

6)      The Fall. I didn’t know what to expect but I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. A revelation and it was so cool to see another legend in the flesh: Mark E. Smith!

And now… the statistics! All the gigs I saw at the Garage involved being on the Guest List. I had seen fifty percent of the acts I saw at the Oran Mor at the Oran Mor before. Martin Craig took photos at 100% of the gigs I went to at King Tuts. The person I went to the most gigs with was my sister Alison and we had previously been to see 40% of the acts we saw together before. Ross was at half the shows I went to at Hampden and so was Ariane. Helen Gallacher was at all the gigs I went to at the Garage and Daniel Nash was at every gig I went to at the Academy. Robert McFarlane was at two thirds o the Concert Hall shows I went to, as was Robert Hutchison but not the same two thirds and Robert Fenton at half the Hampden shows, but not the same half as Ariane.

Special Award For Best Gig Involving a Mate’s Band.

How many times did I see Departures this year? ..Aberdeen.., ..Edinburgh.., four or five times in ....Glasgow.... at least? The absolute best time was a couple of weeks ago at the 13^th Note. No idiots throwing themselves around at the front of the crowd and the band were on blistering form. Brilliant night and I was still buzzing the next morning. Brilliant.

As I write I have nothing whatsoever lined up for 2010. We shall see…