A fellow Glaswegian messaged me recently with a story. In 2006, he won tickets from The Times to an invitation-only, one-man show at the Criterion Theatre in Piccadilly starring his (and also my) hero, Mel Brooks. The legendary New York comedian took questions from the audience, and my friend couldn’t resist posing one.
Brooks cupped his ear and gave an animated “Eh!” in reaction to his accent. “Are you from Sauchiehall Street?”, he asked. “Er, yes, I am,” was the truthful reply. “I thought so”, Brooks said in response. “You sound exactly like some guys I know from up there who I used to get drunk with. Now what was the question again?”
Putting aside for one minute the stereotyping of our relationship with alcohol,