I was a little disappointed when the paper I worked for, the Edmonton Sun, was taken over in 1998 by a company called Quebecor, at that time one of the biggest commercial printers in the world. It was how that had become such a big deal in the world of printing that that worried me. They had gone into partnership with millionaire crook Robert Maxwell. It seemed to be me that either Quebcor had known that Maxwell was a crook and didn’t care. Or they didn’t know and they were idiots. Either way, I was not happy. The Department of Trade and Industry had warned back in 1971 that Maxwell should not be allowed to head a publicly quoted company. And here were his main business partners buying us. It was no great surprise when a few years later the Sun was sold off and absorbed by its rival The Edmonton Journal.

A lot of parents think their darling little kids are the greatest thing since sliced bread. That's fine - unless these parents are journalists and decide to interview their supposedly cute little darling on air. I think the rest of us quickly cotton onto the fact that little so-and-so isn't exactly genius material - or that cute. I don't think it's a co-incidence that the journalists involved are often also really really bad at their jobs. I can think of one who literally doesn't know what day it is and advises people to ignore traffic lights if the roads are quiet. He also frequently interviews his wife as a sort of Jill Average. And don't get me started on the Kenyan who talks on air like she just came from a Home Counties Pony Club meeting but when she interviewed her kid sounded like she came from ..... well, from Kenya. A sad case, I fear, of someone hired on the Never Mind the Quality, See the Colour principal. When someone benefits from so-called positive discrimination many others are discriminated against. And my bet is that with the implosion of professional journalism there were plenty of recently redundant British reporters who were more worthy of the job.

OK, I was wrong. The word Gotten is not yet another American bastardisation of the English Language. I found it in a Scottish book published in 1825. But I'm still agin Lived Experience. What other kind of experience is there? And Continue On. Where else would one continue? Would you take medical advice from a doctor who talks about something being pre-existing? Suggests muddled ignorant thinking to me. English is now an international pidgin language. But I balk at referring to a helicopter as Jesus Christ Big Mixmaster in the Sky. I can see why the arbiters of English as pidgin are American. It has always been a pidgin for them. Who remembers now that before the First World War the biggest single national minority were the Germans - closely followed by the Irish? And nowadays folk in the US can live their entire lives in Spanish.

Well, drumroll time. And not just to mark the first entry of 2021. No, it's time to announce the 2020 Book of the Year. You know,  I'm beginning to wonder if the final winner in any given year isn't often the last book to make it onto the short list. A bit like the person whose final decision or opinion is always what the last person they spoke to said. I hope not. I'd like to think that the main criteria remains "Wow,  I wish I was good enough to have written that one". I like to think you are getting a better deal out of Book Briefing than you get from most reviews. I'm not sucking up to publishers in the hope of a constant supply of free books or the chance of some publicity for myself with a pithy endorsement that they can use on the back cover of their latest paperback. Nor do I know enough writers to be worried about losing friends or contacts by expressing an honest appreciation or to get caught up in a "You Scratch My Back, I'll Scratch Yours" scenario. Nope, I tell you what I really think. Trust me, that's more than most book reviewers do. Oh, hit this link if you want to know the winner of the  2020 Book of the Year 

Hollywood's quintessential English gentleman David Niven tells a very touching story in his autobiography The Moon's a Balloon about his days as an officer in the Highland Light Infantry. He recounts how he went to the hospital bedside of crusty old Company Sergeant Major "Sixty" Smith the day before the battalion left Malta. Smith, a highly respected regimental character, asked the young Niven to arrange for the battalion to deviate slightly from its marching route down to the docks so that he could hear the pipe band one last time before he died. Niven claims to have been with Smith as the pipes and drums marched past and saw tears ran down the old soldier's "granite cheeks" before he slid back down between the sheets and turning his face to the wall. Niven reports Smith died that night. The problem with the story is that Smith died in 1936, in Egypt, and Niven resigned his commission in 1933. The last soldiers of the regiment to see Smith in hospital before they left Egypt reported no premonition of death from the tough old Military Medal winner; who came through the entire First World War uninjured. Smith made fine fodder for one of Niven's many embellished and dubious tales in The Moon's a Balloon. Would Smith have approved; I don't know. The urbane raconteur always had a twinkle in in eyes when he told such tales during television interviews. It was obvious that he was not the kind of man to let the facts get in the way of a good story. He was after all an entertainer. But as News becomes more and more a branch of the entertainment industry some disturbing trends are emerging. Television news anchors are taken more seriously than they should be here in North America. For years US anchor Brian Williams told how a helicopter he was in over Iraq had to make an emergency landing after being hit by a rocket-propelled grenade. In fact, it was another helicopter flying nearby that was forced down. I won't go into why some Walter Mitty television newsman would make up such a story. What concerns me is the lack of respect he had for journalism. Did he really think no-one would check his story? Though, it took US journalists more than a decade to call Williams out, so perhaps his contempt for his own profession was not entirely without some foundation.

This website has brought me into contact with a lot of interesting people. It’s even resulted in contact with long lost relatives on the other side of the world being resumed.

There’s a website I’d like to direct those of you interested in Scottish soldiers to. It’s a priceless archive of photos being built up by a former soldier in the Cameronians called Ed Boyle. Ed served with the Cameronians in the early 1960s and his website not only includes his own photos from that time but also those of several other members of the regiment that was disbanded in 1968. They provide not only a fascinating snapshot of army life in the 1960s but also document some pretty amazing haircuts.Ed's work on his website is a timely reminder of the regimental tradition and it's strengths. The Cameronians were disbanded more than 40 years ago and yet once a Cameronian, always a Cameronian. Of course a battalion's only as good as the men in it at any given time. A bad Lieutenant Colonel or Regimental Sergeant Major can do damage which can take years to repair or which may never be repaired. But regimental history and tradition can often form a solid base on which to build today's success and reputation. Persuading men to put their own best interests and self-preservation instincts aside is a complex thing and I don't think a load of pencil pushers in Whitehall actually understand all the factors. Yes, the other members of a man's section are an important factor, perhaps the most important. But when they're nearly all lying dead or unconscious, that's when the old "The Royal Scots-KOSB-HLI-Royal Scots Fusiliers-Gordons- Cameronians- Seaforths-Black Watch-Camerons-Argylls-Scots Guards-Greys NEVER surrender/retreat" thing can kick in.A few blogs ago I speculated that the 4th Battalion of the Royal Regiment of Scotland might be facing the axe in the latest round of defence cuts. The Highlanders, who inherited the traditions of the Seaforths, Camerons and Gordons, didn't seem to have the friends in high places who protect the 3rd Battalion (Black Watch) and 5th Battalion (Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders). But I see that it could well be the Black Watch, suffering from poor recruitment, who may be on the chopping block. In the very very olden days Whitehall took the emotion out of these decisions by opting for a last-in first out approach which disbanded the youngest regiment first, regardless of its fighting record. A team's only as good as the side it puts on the field, and you don't automatically win the Scottish Cup just because your team's called Celtic or Rangers. Perhaps if there are indeed, and it's debatable, too many teams in the Royal Regiment of Scotland League, the fairest way to sort that might be by the numbers rather than by some sort of battalion beauty contest. Ninety-one and Ninety-three are the highest in this case. {Which is what happened, the 5 Scots being reduced to company strength and assigned to ceremonial duties}  Anyway, here's the link to Ed's website. http://www.edwardboyle.com/EB/RAPC/RAPCmisc/Cameronians/Cameronian.htm