Ra Big Jambo!

Sunday 11:40 p.m.
My best memory of the Big Jambo was when we went to the pub in Portree to see the first football game of the season, Hearts versus Rangers. The pub was down by the harbour and it's probably painted blue. The barmen were wearing Rangers shirts. About four or five of the punters were wearing Rangers shirts. The pub was as orange as the Boyne and this did not make me feel comfortable at all. So we sat down at a table and were soon surrounded by all these huns. This is definitely not a good time to start singing Faith of Our Fathers Living Still, but I think it's going to be alright because Hearts were almost bound to get a doing.

When Hearts scored the first goal, the Big Jambo runs out of his seat and is jumping up and down in the middle of the floor, shouting, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" with the clenched fists and all. The rest was stony silence. Fortunately, he was a big lad and I was most apologetic to the appallled huns sitting beside me. I think Hearts won two nil.

He'd been staying in Louisianna for the last few years. I heard yesterday that he'd killed himself on Thursday. You can buy a gun quite easily in Lousianna, I think. I couldn't say enough good things about the guy.

If you were a Tibetan buddhist, the interval between death and rebirth doesn't last longer than forty nine days, so you could meditate for someone over this time. I'll start doing that then.