Monday 23 February 2009

(One of) the other Tom Morton(s) breaks cover

I've been aware for some time of the existence of several other Tom Mortons working in what might generalise as 'the media.' This one broke cover the other night in Channel Four News. He appears to be some kind of advertising guru.

There's another TM in Australia, a broadcaster and writer, oddly enough, and I once appeared at book reading in a school to find a display of one of his books artfully arranged behind me. There's a dead Tom Morton, acclaimed painter; and there's Tom Morton the curator of the Cubitt Gallery in London, also a writer.

It may have been one of these TMs or a different one entirely who wrote an article recently for MicroMart about gaming, thus occasioning my father to get in touch, anxiously wondering how I'd acquired all this abstruse knowledge about Grand Theft Auto and the like.

It wisnae me.

Thing is, though, should I change my name to avoid confusion? Is it up to me?
Who am I, anyway? Thomas MacCalman Morton is my full name. How about T MacCalman Morton, a soubriquet I have used on occasion when wishing to appear pretentious. Or Tom MacCalman Morton. Or, to return to the name I was universally known by until university, Tommy Morton?

Sunday 22 February 2009

Up helly Aa and the process of recovery

I presume that vikings didn't drink whisky, or indeed claret. Or, for that matter, Coca Cola and Tennents Lager (from separate tins; mixing the two is not advised).

My alcohol consumption on the night of the Northmavine fire festival involved wine with dinner, more wine at the Hilswick Hall (one of those tiny aeroplane bottles), a tin of lager and a tin of coke. I always like to mix my drinks on such occasions. But it was the two whiskies that both lifted things towards the end of the night (a wee livener, as they say) and left me in a state of post-festivity fuzziness next day.

I have no idea what the whisky was. It was probably Bells. Certainly, my head was ringing like one yesterday. The red wine was...red. Sort of winey.

In other words, a good time was had. You'll forgive me if my powers of description and analysis seem to have taken as much of a battering as my liver. I don't think vikings were very big on nosing their drinks. It was probably a side effect of all that fly agaric.

Anyway, what I should really have had was dark rum, as in Watson's Trawler, Navy rum or Stewart's. Dark rum is a traditional favourite in Shetland, probably due to the islands' maritime heritage. In fact, Stewart's is now wholly Shetland owned, after it was discovered that 90 per cent of sales were in the islands. I do draw the line at Morgan's Spiced. For some reason, that drink is always associated, in my experience with extremely bad, if entertaining, behaviour. I blame the turmeric. Or maybe the cinnamon.

Sunday 8 February 2009

St Augustine says...

Complete abstinence is easier than perfect moderation.

But then, nobody's perfect.

Monday 2 February 2009

Rumours of mothballed distilleries, and is that all political hacks drink these days?

I hear strong rumours that, due to the recession, Diageo may be about to mothball its much-vaunted £100m distillery development at Roseisle on Sepyside...watch this (and other) spaces...

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Ah, that abstemious Scottish Government...and its journalistic gallery...