Sunday, 31 October 2010

Spirits On The Streets

Ghaists 'n' bogles are fleein' aboot the auld haunted graveyerd o' Govan Auld the nicht.
Hallowe'en's become sooooo commercialised - here we put some of the real meaning back into the evening when spirits roam freely through the world.
Clocks went back an hour last night, so this Hallowe'en sees darkness fall around half past five.
On Govan Road, I see the first pair of guisers of the evening. A couple of 12 year old boys. One is a white boy sitting in a wee nhs wheelchair. On his head is a bald cap with straggly wisps of hair round it. He's being pushed by a black boy who's got a baldy wig on too with a big mohican jagging out the top. They cross over Shaw Street and the wheelchair batters into the kerb, knocking the wee baldy flying. Smokers at the side door of the Harmony squawk and shriek, "In the name a the wee man! Look it ye's!".

After dinner we go for a saunter through the festive streets. Half sixish sees plenty of guisers heading round the doors. Skeletons on Shaw St, fairies, witches floating down McKechnie St. A couple of St. Trinian's lassies zip up and down arm in arm. We catch sight of the baldies once more, the black one still charging along with the white one rattling about in the red metal wheelchair.

Outside the Liquor Barn a skinny scallywag squares up to us. "Gonnae take ma pic-cher?" he whines, out his contorted face on various stuffs.
Back home, the basin of cold water's set in the middle of the living room and dooking for apples begins. Performance of a joke, a song or a dance is required before you get one of Watson's fancy cakes and a handful of monkey nuts.

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