Cultural Contrasts In The West Of Scotland

Yesterday afternoon, while cleaning up a mess created by somebody else's dog in the back garden, the dreary thump of lambeg drums could be heard in the distance like Sauron's orc army marching across the Pelennor Fields to the gates of Minas Tirith.

And then, almost miraculously, a song promising happiness and hope of better days rose above the din like a choir of angels, drowning the drums completely.

It was a Mr. Whippee van playing 'Whistle While You Work'.

If Glasgow didn't already exist, it would have to be invented.