In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.
It was something about money or maybe it was women.
When you first go to New York which is The Best Town In The World you spend the first couple of days waiting to be mugged then you remember that you’re from Glasgow so you relax and after that it’s brilliant. The Bronx is up and the Battery down. The best part is when real New Yorkers stop you in the street for directions. Three times already. There is no better feeling. I’ve been all over the world except Asia and South America and no-one, like ever, has mistaken me for a native but in Manhattan it has happened enough now to make me feel superior and smug. Oh and Greenland and Australia: not been there either although I’ve been to Iceland.
I mention all this because Dick and I may have to go to Dallas.
I’m technical so they will show us technical things and Dick who is not technical will say ‘wow, that spark erosion technique is really fascinating’, and I’ll be like, ‘yeah, cosmic. Say Tex, where d’ya get them denims? Do you own a gun? Can I see it? Can I shoot it? Is there a ranch nearby? Can we go? Can we? Can we? Can we buy genuine Wrangler jeans there? Can we? Can we ride horses?
I will probably not be mistaken for a Texan but you never know.
I think he’s already trying to back me out the deal. Cowboy!