Burning Ambition

What I've been thinking about this week:

1. Films
2. Fame

Ivie had a tractor on loan this week, which made me think that there's probably room for a farmery take on The Terminator franchise. 

He invited me along for a tractor date (how lucky am I...), which was pretty good because the extra seat in the cab was actually comfortable and I didn't ask too many stupid questions (except why tractors aren't allowed at raves - see below 😜).

The other film I've been thinking about is The Wicker Man since this week sees the 50th anniversary of its original release. The first time I saw it was in my friend Naomi's living room in Leith and it was a lot less gory and much more weird than I was expecting.

Fast forward to 2019 and Ivie and I went to a showing in the Isle of Whithorn (a few miles from where poor PC Howie met his end at Burrowhead). It was a whole other experience watching it with someone who knew all the nearby locations and even recognised a few extras in The Green Man/Ellangowan. 

That was topped by a special showing on Sunday night at Newton Stewart Cinema (and more my idea of a date). The audience fell into two main camps:

1. The superfans (including someone who had flown in from France especially) who were interested in rumoured lost footage and identifying the filming location of every single frame. 
2. The locals like us who whispered, 'that's the Tolbooth' and nudged each other when the graveyard in Anwoth appeared.

(My personal highlight was the guide dog in the row behind who leaned in for a cuddle halfway through the film.)

All this got me thinking about whether I had any claims to fame. I've never appeared in a major motion picture (or a minor one for that matter) but I have met a few famous folk along the way. None of them were particularly memorable (for me or them) but I do remember Robert Peston trying to hand me his coat to hang up at a University of Edinburgh event. You'll guess how that went.... 

Obviously, I met a few authors when I worked at Wigtown Book Festival where I allowed myself one moment of being starstruck per festival. In 2015, this was Bill Drummond of KLF fame. He asked me where the toilets were and borrowed my sellotape!! Swoon. 

I suppose that, these days, it's the local heroes I meet through work who are most impressive, the ones making the least noise and just getting on with making a difference (and also not burning a million pounds. Or a policeman in a wicker effigy).