• Vile, vile, vile

    Oh, vile was the journey home from Edinburgh last night.

    Every now and then there is hand wringing about how few the number of people are who make the trip over from Glasgow (city of light and beauty) to Edinburgh (town of dark pleasures and dug-up roads) for arts events in the Edinburgh festival. Indeed, this year, they’ve installed a useful ticket booth for the Fringe in Queen Street station, pour encourager les autres.

    That’s a good idea in itself, but access to tickets isn’t the primary reason that people don’t make the journey.

    I can understand why they might want to encourage more people. After all, I’ve been at two of the top notch events in the official festival in the last week and on each occasion there have been many empty seats all around me. (Funny, isn’t it that empty seats at the Olympics are a national scandal whilst empty seats at the world’s premier arts festival cause no headlines.)

    [In passing, I would also note with a slight grump that the Festival is now refusing to give a companion’s ticket to reviewers these days despite having all those empty seats to fill].

    A big part of the reason for people not wanting to go to Edinburgh at night from the land of plenteousness in the West is that the journey can be just so vile.

    You don’t want to drive to Edinburgh because in Edinburgh you can neither park nor drive. All roads in the centre are likely to be dug up or congested due to the long-running tram debacle which would be better described as a piece of performance art than a transport policy.

    And the late night trains from Edinburgh are just so horrible.

    Last Saturday night there was terrible overcrowding on the trains. They know that the Edinburgh festival is on its way presumably every year. And though there is the odd extra train very late at night, the capacity at 1030 pm just isn’t good enough. Corridors are full of people and toilets are full of…. well, never mind what they are full of.

    Last night I thought I got lucky by getting a seat in the front of the train. However, that feeling of pleasure and delight was soon dashed from the castle ramparts above Waverley station as Glasgow’s generic, belligerent, loud, smelly, objectionable drunk decided to sit at my table. After announcing to one and all quite how p….drunk he was, he then proceeded to keep up a commentary on everyone else in the carriage. Young women were lampooned for being too fat for him, too thin for him or wearing the wrong clothes. Every man was a threat that made him nervous and tetchy. Anyone with a briefcase was subject to questioning about what they did and whether they had any money in the case.

    Dozens of people had a miserable end to whatever kind of evening that they had had.

    I chose the line of least resistance and feigned sleep. However, closing your eyes to such bad behaviour is hardly any easier than keeping vigilant watch.

    Scotrail supposedly have a no alcohol and no drunks policy on late-night trains. If they are going to come anywhere near enforcing it then they need some staff on the trains. Last night there was no sign of a guard, conductor, ticket-wallah or whatever the whole vile journey.

    Quite ghastly and bound to make one think twice about making the journey again.

9 responses to “Never mind the quality, feel the width”

  1. chris Avatar

    Gosh, you’ve hit an apparently tender spot there. As someone who was originally brought into the church – and I mean the whole shebang, not just a particular building or denomination, though that was important too – by beautiful music and dignified liturgy, I have been asking for an aspiration towards excellence for the past 30 years or so. But is it not the case that for many people that smacks of an elitism that sits ill with their idea of ‘being church’ (a vile phrase, therefore I use it not)? The idea that as church is for all, you’re not allowed to look for certain standards in music, in reading, in serving …
    I could go on, but I don’t need to. You’ve said it. Go for it! (And please delete the earlier comment, in which I was so carried away by my parenthesis that I forgot to finish the original clause)

  2. kelvin Avatar

    I was thinking about all of this yesterday. It is choir holidays at the moment and yesterday the choir were singing down in Englandshire. It might have been expected to be a bit of a flat day here. However, there was none of that. We had a good turnout and wonderful worship both morning and evening. No sign of a summer slump and it was obvious that people came expecting something good even without the regular musicians.

    Summer Sung Evensong last night attracted 37 souls. That’s 35 more than might have been expected to turn up seven years ago.

    Now, we’ll all be thrilled when the choir come back and put the icing on the cake in a few week’s time – they are full of fabulousness, but yesterday was good proof that we are not simply a one-trick musical pony.

  3. chris Avatar

    Well as you know we don’t have a choir in my church, tho’ many years ago there was a great one with children and adults. But we can still produce a frisson, and the reaction of visitors bears that out; it’s just that not everyone seems to see what produces said frisson.(I know. It’s not just us, but …)

  4. Fraser Pearce Avatar

    Excellent points and something of an encouragement to me at the moment.

    The new set up is much better on my phone, by the way.

    Fp

  5. […] it for six, it’s not just cosy log-rolling for me to affirm his point. This morning, Kelvin says what great many people won’t: that excellence and forethought and diligence and attention really do make a tremendous difference […]

  6. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Preaching. I have a wealth of experience of hearing terrible preaching, and a wealth of hearing good. The gulf between the two is immense. I have NO IDEA how one can persuade those who cannot, really really cannot, preach to do something to raise their game. I think you hint the way is probably to persuade those who can, REALLY can to raise their game too. HOW? How when the attempt to hold a music day fails,and people generally find that a much easier thing to approach? Teaching preaching is something at which I am good – if you ever find a way, I will come along and help coach.

  7. […] worship Posted by Fr. Sam Keyes on July 23, 2012 | 0 comments Kelvin Holdsworth, Provost of St. Mary’s in Glasgow, wonders why more people don’t consider the obvious […]

  8. chris Avatar

    Couldn’t agree more about the music days either, Rosemary – we’ve held several singing workshops here, and unless they are tied in to fundraising and a BBQ the attendance tends to be thin and the usual suspects – who can generally sing quite respectably anyway – turn up.

    1. Kimberly Avatar

      but thankfully, you do a really good BBQ so there is hope yet.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • Clacks

    For the first time ever, I have managed to drive to somewhere in Clackmannanshire and back to Bridge of Allan without getting lost. I did have a road atlas, a streetmap and a couple of maps downloaded from the internet with me, but it still felt like a great achievement. I don't understand why the…

  • Songs of Praise

    From the BBC website: “Songs of Praise: Christmas Highlights – Pop producer Pete Waterman takes a trip on a steam train and picks his favourite Christmas carols, including performances by Wells Cathedral Choir and Sir Cliff Richard.” Beyond parady.

  • Sermon – Holy Innocents

    The gospel reading this morning is one of those parts of the Christmas story which can take us by surprise. Indeed, it can be very tempting to miss it out. I had planned to use the Gospel readings for the first Sunday after Christmas instead, because I felt not a little squeamish about reading the…

  • Working Time

    I think that I might, just about, have recovered from Christmas. Having three services each 12 hours apart over Christmas Eve and Christmas Day is hard work. The European Working Time Directive would suggest that o­ne should not be encouraged (or allowed) to do this. It is o­nly a matter of time before the churches…