It's funny how for boys of a certain vintage, old diesel trains do the same thing steam trains did for my Dad. This shows Whitley Bay in the '70s, Glaswegians en route for le grande caravan et piss up, as the they say a la franglais dans Lanarkshire: my boyhood pulses race. There's something sad about these grand old stations; a Victorian heyday overcome by the Costa del Crap. Mind you, who the **** in their right minds would go on holiday dans le North Tyneside Riviera? Just think of the nuclear holocaust that was the town centre on New Year's Day...Anyway, I'm on the train tomorrow, so tenuous connection, one of my favourite albums of last year, and two favourite songs:
While we're on train connections, one of the finest train songs:
Buy Guy Clark here
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