A grand total for a grand night

I’d forgotten my raffle tickets. Once I finally got a chance to sit down on Saturday at DJ William Rae’s Charity Hat Disco Night, after around two hours of organising and tearing up raffle tickets, I realised I’d left my own raffle tickets at home so would have no chance of getting a prize.
The raffle tickets were selling well. A little too well, I thought, as I stood separating out the individual raffle tickets whilst people still arrived, queuing up behind us to get through the doors and into the busy, outside the Salmon Leap’s bustling, music filled function room in the hallway with Ka, Morgan and some of the girls.
Ka and myself had been down earlier in the afternoon and met up with Claire, Helen (Claire’s Mum), and Maureen (Claire’s Auntie). We spent a few hours blowing up balloons, tying ribbons, unloading all the raffle prizes from the boot and delivering Subway sandwiches kindly donated by the Bellshill branch. Now things were really kicking off as a seemingly non stop flow of people arrived for around quarter past seven onwards, some wearing hats and some seemingly too cool to wear a hat but forgiven anyway just for coming along to the Charity Hat Disco Night in aid of Sands, Stillbirth and Neonatal Death Society, and Cancer Research UK.
On the blisteringly hot Thursday morning I had went up my Mum and Dad’s loft and pulled down an old Mad hatter’s style felt top hat that I’d bought in a crazy moment in Prague when I was there on a field trip with the Art School. Perfect for the occasion. Dad came along with a black and white checkered trilby. Craig came along with a policeman’s helmet with a flashing blue light protruding from it’s top. Uncle Ian attended with his big Texan cowboy hat. Aunt Anne was adorned with a large Easter bonnet. Mark had a World War II M1 Helmet. Sparkling, glittering, hats in various forms were in abundance along with many wicker sun hats probably usually kept for BBQ’s in the garden. In the end it was our neice, Morgan who took the ‘best hat’ prize home with her large white, fluffy, big eared, googly eyed, bunny rabbit hat.
As we continued to work on the raffle tickets everyone else enjoyed the the rock ‘n’ roll bingo a game DJ Rae had came up with in his time abroad. Basically a bits ‘n’ pieces with cards, bought to participate, each card with it’s own table of songs which you had to cross out as a short clip of the tune was played.
As we worked out in the hallway outside, ripping and tearing, a loud bellow suddenly echoed throughout the hall, after a good number of music clips. Colin had won, along with Elspeth, a friend of Grace’s whose bellow for some reason didn’t seem to echo quite as much. Colin and Elspeth won a litre and a half bottle of Vodka and £25 worth of winnings which Morgan somehow ended up getting a fiver from.
The raffle tickets seemed to be neverending and when I was in mid rip of a raffle strip following the bingo, DJ Rae announced the buffet open to which we raffle workers just looked at each other and laughed. The buffet table was currently occupied by piles of raffle ticket strips. Nobody was getting any food, anytime soon.
After a quick location change to the back room, where fortunately there was still some tables left, Angela, William and Claire’s Mum, Helen and a number of kind volunteers jumped to help with the grub whilst raffle operations continued.
Eventually, with the help of a couple of other volunteers, we managed to get the tickets all ready and whilst the gathered crowds feasted on the buffet they were entertained by a great local singer who, unfortunately, was a little drowned by the surrounding conversation.
Eager to get on with the music DJ Rae called for the raffle knowing they had a job on their hands. The corner of the room was completely crowded in bottles, perfumes, envelopes and gift bags of various shapes and sizes. There was even a living room rug. Upon his first visit to the bar, Dougie had laughed upon seeing the rug on the monster pile of raffle prizes kindly donated by local companies and many friends and family.
Ka and Claire set up and organised the prize giving, handing the lucky tickets to William to read out over his mike.
It wasn’t long before allegations of raffle fixing were being called as Colin won again, this time a rather lovely bottle of Jamesons whiskey. Unfortunately by this point, Colin and Jillian had since departed for Edinburgh. Jillian was running her first marathon in the morning in aid of Sands and various other worthy causes. In her absence Jillian won a Sex in the City perfume set.
Mum was the only winner of her table with an Afternoon tea for 2, which whilst collecting, for some reason, DJ Rae attempted to persuade her to perform 5 star jumps. Apparently it would have made the gathered lads from his football team happy.
I’m not sure what that was all about or why the lads would be interested in seeing my Mum performing exercises? Nobody else had had to work for their raffle prize.
Among other prizes handed out was a bottle of Courvoisier for big Iain and Angela won a basket of wine, crackers and chocolate.
One of the last prizes to go was the rug. Dougie and Grace won that. A prize Dougie was not particularly happy to receive but did manage to stop at least two blokes from nipping away with at the end of the night.
DJ Rae got the music back on soon enough and filled the dancefloor with a few requests including Paulo Nutini for Auntie Anne and the Timewarp for Ka and myself (I’ll never live that down!).
After the Salmon Leap eventually kicked us out, a select few, consisting of the Mums and Dads, Chris, Jim, Pauline and Lynsey Ann all agreed to come to our place for a nightcap. The majority of the ladies managed to get a taxi with the buffet dishes, remaining prizes, the rug, and, most importantly, the two buckets of cash, one yellow for Sands and one blue for Cancer Research. Never before had I had so much money in my physical possession. Mum, Dad, Jim, Lynsey Ann, Dougie and myself left without a taxi had no choice but to enjoy a walk down the road, back to Kenilworth, taking in the night air. I had to make a brief stop as we approached the end of our walk, standing at the foot of a tree with a large black and white felt top hat on, taking care the passing taxis didn’t see too much of me from the road.
Back at the flat we enjoyed another drink but at around half past two, just as Jim started talking about work again, Chris signalled that it was time to go home. More taxis were called and everyone went on their way leaving Ka and myself to collapse into bed.
The next morning, unsurprisingly, Ka awoke first. Her first job – to count the collected cash contained in both the Sands and Cancer research buckets. The night’s grand total amounted to £1100.19. I’m not sure where the 19p came from, but every penny helps! A fantastic total, from a fantastic night for two fantastic charities. Well done to everyone involved and thanks and to all who came along on the night!

Through the rain

Ghastly. Simply ghastly. If I was posh, that is exactly how I would describe this morning. The sky was completely smothered in threatening, thick, dark grey clouds, hanging ominously over the climb up High Common Road. It had been a rough, uneven, sleep with hail battering off the window late into the night after the stormy winds and rain from the evening had subsided briefly for a few hours. Driving into Glasgow, to drop Ka and Chris off in the late afternoon, the steering wheel was almost pulled from my grip by the horrendous gales going over the M77.
It was John Barrowman time again, and Ka and Chris were heading into town for the latest hometown gig by the singing superstar. They were meeting up with Jillian and her Mum, Jean, for dinner on Sauchiehall Street before heading down to the Armadillo.
While the girls were out on the town, I was creating a brand new website for DJ, William Rae.
William is our friend Claire's brother, just back from Puerto Rico where he, along with his wife and daughter, had been living for the past year or so. Before he had departed for sunnier shores I had designed and created his last website for his DJ'ing and, now that he was back in cloudy Scotland, fancied a redesign and a new look, especially since the last version had been very much beach party orientated.
As lovely as Ayr beach is, I can’t imagine a jostling crowd of dancers supping the cocktails and living it up down there on a balmy evening.
Just as I was making the final touches to his wondrous new website, the mobile started ringing. It was Ka insisting that they were just about to miss their last train home. They knew this even though they were standing outside the Armadillo, after a good few sherries, with at least twenty minutes before the afore said train was due. Being the gentleman, of course, I agreed to head back into town to pick them up. Thankfully the rain and storms had abated on my way in and although I got stopped by what must have been 90% of the red lights on my journey into Glasgow, I made it to the Mint Hotel, within around half an hour. As I sat parked in the bus stop immediately outside the Mint Hotel, pondering who gave the hotel this illustrious title, I spotted a shimmer of silver in my rear view mirror. A vision of silver excitedly jumping up the street. Jillian, in a silver shimmering sequins dress was running up the pavement towards the car, a massive grin on her face. The Barrowman grin. She was farting glitter with excitement, apparently.
Upon leaving my position behind the wheel Jillian gave me a big shimmery hug. Personally I think Jillian was sent out to sweeten me up as, moments later, Ka and Chris appeared at the hotel’s front entrance, looking a little meek, tired, but happy. Barrowman had worn them out with his dazzling array of sparkly suits and anthemic classics. Classics such as Manilow’s “I made it through the rain”, Gaynor’s “I am what I am” and The Village People’s “YMCA” (I think I remember dancing to that at the school formal… no wonder I didn’t get a lumber).
It wasn’t until 1am last night, after safely delivering Chris home, and leaving Ka in the living room to have a nice cup of tea, that I sent through the first draft of DJ William’s website. It was one of those jobs that I thought would take me hours but, in fact, took me days. Once again I find myself inadvertently selling myself cheap.
Not that I often sell myself cheap.
I’m sure someone would pay a hefty sum for me if I was on the market. I just wouldn’t get ‘Your Maneuver’ to sell me.
Anyway, I went to bed later as a result of the late night web building, making my sleep uneasy. My brain wouldn’t switch off and the volume of the living room telly hadn’t been turned down much.
I woke up around half two, dazed and vaguely confused. The other half of the bed was still empty and I could still hear the television from the other room. Crawling out of bed I went through to the living and found Ka curled up on the couch, fast asleep. The bright, vibrant colours of some form of late night childrens' television beamed from the box in the darkened living room around her, it's wild moving shapes flickering over her face as she slept.
Why childrens’ tv was on at that time of night, I’ll never know. Is childrens’ tv on 24 hours a day now?

I know it now has it’s own channels, and Ed the duck in the broom cupboard between half three and half five in the evenings is long gone, but do they have to continually operate? Can’t they be like some of those other digital channels and only operate at certain times?
It also begs the question of what had Ka been watching?
The last music I’d heard drifting in from the living room, before I fell asleep, had been the doleful melodiousness of Emmerdale. That gawd awful tune that informs you it’s now time to either gain control of the remote and change the channel or run for your god forsaken life to the nearest open window and paint the pavement down below your, hopefully, high rise flat a new colour of brain.
As I moved to switch the tv off, my foot stood on half a cornetto wrapping that had been discarded on the carpet. A half eaten crisp then crunched under my other foot as I then noticed Ka’s glass and plate lying empty on the coffee table.
The John Barrowman gig had obviously taken it's toll on the poor girl. Not only was she now curled up, having conked out on the couch but she had neglected to tidy up after herself and had even dropped a cornetto paper on the carpet and a single, rogue, crisp.
Once the tv was off I decided against interrupting Ka’s slumber, knowing full well of the repercussions, and wandered back off to bed.
She eventually fell on to the mattress at around half four, whilst the rain pelted down outside, the clock continuing it’s ticking around to the inevitable black, winter, Friday morning.
On the radio, in the car, on my way into work, there were people wishing each other ‘Happy Christmas’.
People calling in to give their relations festive wishes.
Okay, there’s only a month to go now but, come on!
Wait until you open the first door of your chocolate calendar at least.
After making this mental complaint, I then went into work and started some online Christmas shopping.
Well, you’ve got to start at some point.