Last issue of the Leither, I bored you all to tears about my life drawing. I hope you’ve recovered sufficiently for me to crush your spirit once more – this time with an ill-informed rant about how we contextualise events in our life/world/universe; the dark arts as opposed to the amateur arts. And for the observant amongst you, a gold star; you’ve probably already got me sussed. For yes, I’ve been framing things already…

See how I started off with such overt self-deprecation? The old ‘humility’ routine – get folks onside, praise you for your stoicism, maybe even elicit the odd knowing chuckle, softening up youse poor sods for some more of my earnest observations. Some would class that as the actions of a dark empath. But it’s all about the framing innit? Hence this mercifully brief article. GOD, I’m at it again… soz and that. Let’s reframe things.

Scott McTominay’s goal v Denmark, Hampden Park, on Tuesday 18th November. That’s better. That’s something worthy of a frame. Literally, actually. For, in a marvellous bit of PR gallusness, the National Portrait Museum in Edinburgh stuck McTominay’s acrobatic moment of fame into a frame and hung it on the wall. Rightly so, for it is – and was – truly a work of art. Something to be admired. Cherished. Appreciated. And remembered.

There are plenty of other things that I’ve encountered in life that I’d like to do a ‘McTominay’ on; to frame them on a wall, affording them the status of ‘work of art’. Moments, memories, even just mementoes of a life lived so far (hopefully I’ll get another few years out of this ailing meat suit of mine). I’m going to save that wee line-up for later. That way we can end on positive vibes – see it’s all about the framing. AGAIN.

But first a brief interlude re: the flipside of framing. See, the last few weeks or so has left me utterly amazed at how global events are framed for the moral convenience of some. Specifically, the story of the brave souls seeking democracy in Iran. And their courage in the face of a thuggish theocratic regime who bully and murder women, gay people, and anyone who dares to challenge terrorist-backing mullahs, who cause nowt but misery.

No howls of outrage from leading leftwing/progressive voices about this. No vigils. No flags hanging out windows. No protests outside consulates. No bold graffiti calling for solidarity, along Leith Walk. But of course, as the US and Israel are seeking to piggyback on this flowering of people power for their own nefarious ends, it immediately renders it invalid to some. So, they wheesht. Or say little. And even then, it’s said ‘sotto voce’.

Hey, maybe the likes of Kneecap can take the cause on and publicise it. That way it might become cool to back it. But I doubt it. Because that conflicts with the sclerotic narrative adhered to by some. Such is life. Which brings me back to the good things in it, which I’d like to frame in a museum. You’ll have your own. These are my top three.

The Beef Stroganoff I ate at a roadside hotel in rural Normandy, 1987

We were on a family holiday. Touring by car. And had just had a long day sightseeing at Mont St Michel. Dad was knackered, so we pulled over at a very quiet roadside hotel. The chef was in his whites watching the Tour De France, in a deserted dining room. He got up to fix us the only thing on the menu. A Beef Stroganoff for the ages. Frameworthy.

Davie Cooper’s Goal v Celtic in the Drybrough Cup Final, Hampden, 1979

Cooper had a left foot like a wand (his right foot was just there for ballast). And in this random cup competition against our old rivals, he waved that wand. This would be more of a triptych really, because this genius involves an act of ball juggling so supreme, and a finish to die for, that it merits multiple frames. God, what a player. And what a goal.

Writing an essay on Romanticism, long-hand, Pollock Halls, 3am, February 1991

This was a genuine lightbulb moment. No, really – I did it under a lamp on a desk in my wee room at the Uni’s Halls of Residence. It was when I suddenly ‘got’ how to write, how to think critically, and how to have original thoughts instead of parroting textbooks. I got 76%. And I never looked back. To the chagrin of some! But meh, they can go hang…