Monday, October 20, 2008

He never knew how much this meant to me




I waited, but when the Friday evening paper was hours overdue, I finally called the customer service desk. Promises were made about passing on the information to the local distribution point in Amsterdam. Monday came, and the paper fell through the mail slot early, folded around a hand-written note on scrap-paper which read (in French, rather than in Dutch or English, the de facto second language in Holland): I apologize for not having delivered the paper on Friday, The message ended with a comma. Time probably ran out before inclination. I was astounded by the courtesy displayed, and curious about his choice of language, assuming that he was from a former French colony in (North) Africa.

Soon afterwards I saw the delivery man at work as he approached my house on a bicycle with protective carrier baskets over the rear wheel. He lowered the kick-stand, pulled out one newspaper and stepped up to my front door with a serious limp. One hip was higher, one leg twisted in what appeared to be a polio survivor’s stance. I opened the door and thanked him for the note. He beamed, repeated his apology and explained that he had been educated in his homeland Morocco in French.

My subscription ran out, I didn’t renew and I never saw him again until our paths crossed much later at a post office in another neighbourhood. We smiled in recognition and had a chat. He reported having been promoted to delivery supervisor and moving house with his wife and new baby. The limp has not improved, so he'll be easy to spot from a distance as time goes on.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Tom Hanks and Charlie Sheen: True Crime Pt.2







Pt.1 - please see September 27, 2008.

No pen and paper was at hand, so the young man suggested that I use my cell phone to write down the information he was about to share. We met by chance, two customers in overcoats standing in the True Crime section of a bookstore in Glasgow. I scanned all the shelves; he noticed, smiled and asked if he could help. Typical, I thought to myself, of local people extending themselves in a friendly way. I explained that I was looking for two books related to the notorious Glasgow Ice Cream Wars in the 1980’s. The name covers turf-wars in rougher neighbourhoods over routes followed by ice cream trucks, whose owners stood to rake in attractive profits from the sale of stolen cigarettes, candies and according to some sources, drugs. Whatever the products, violence shaped the culture, and the Wars peaked with the deaths of six members of one family, including a baby, in a house fire. People were convicted and jailed, their sentencing and imprisonment later declared a miscarriage of justice. Two books have appeared on this saga, but the books are hard to find.

Still smiling, the source tilted his head and minced no words: You probably won’t find them in shops, they’re, uh, not usually available. Try the internet. He spelled out the full titles and authors’ names and watched me tap the data into my phone. I told him that I had looked in branch libraries, where a librarian had confided that True Crime titles tend to go missing in Glasgow. Protecting these books from theft has become a matter of library policy. My search of their catalogue reported the titles as On Loan or In Transit, catalogue code for Missing or Stolen, facts revealed when the librarian smirked as she scrutinized her more detailed in-house screen: The books have been missing from all of those libraries for several years. We used to fill the shelves with empty boxes bearing the cover, just like they do with DVD’s and videotapes. My interest was piqued, and she quickly shut down her search.

The entry on my phone was complete. Why are you so interested in finding these books, if I may ask? I paused in surprise, but my hesitation was misunderstood: Never mind, you don’t have to explain. I had been wondering why he knew so much about it, and I was happy to reply: I’ve been struck by Glasgow’s combination of such a forthcoming and humorous population with its legacy of hard crime. I had been reminded of Colombians, whose graciousness, hospitality and good manners are unsurpassed, in a country suffering from decades of violent civil conflict which, according to the UN, generated the largest humanitarian crisis in the Western Hemisphere just a few years ago. I didn’t say all of that, of course, but paused again, hoping he would show his cards. My book friend just beamed as he backed away: You’re rrrright. Kind of a contradiction. Oh well, must go, catch ya later.

An internet search soon afterwards did turn up second-hand copies of both books. Before purchasing, I wanted to see these tomes, and made my way to the main library where they were both stocked in the reference section. Correction: held in compound. As in libraries everywhere, certain books are produced for viewing under supervision only, and so I was guided past a turnstile to the special area where another librarian produced the titles, after acknowledging, with a twinkle in her eye, that our readers do tend to love to hold onto their True Crime titles.

My reading experience in Glasgow coincided with and was enhanced by the Crime Thriller Awards Season on television, a full seven weeks devoted to the work of crime writers. The series has featured profiles of the nominees, one of whom explained that English crime writing tends to be lighter and less bloody, while Scottish crime and thriller stories are darker and grimmer. Scotland’s crime series par excellence is Taggart, a program which branded the pronunciation of the word murder. The series does well abroad, and in the French version, the lead Detective has been given a Marseille accent. No other regional sound would convey the toughness required by the job. My reading experience has also been deepened by the airing of a TV special celebrating 25 years of Taggart. Its enduring popularity, say the makers, is due to both its ingenious stories and gruesome deaths. Actors are admired, but the city of Glasgow itself is one of the main characters – not its contemporary cosmopolitan side, but the traditional grit and humor.

The Taggart special was Sponsored by the Barra’s – Scotland’s local market. When I visited this street market maze, I was told by a local woman that it was still nice five years ago, but that now drug-related crime was making her nervous. I rode a city bus far into Glasgow’s East End, where many of the most difficult neighborhoods lie. Massive urban regeneration efforts are underway across the zone in the run-up to the Commonwealth Games in 2014, but there’s a lot of terrain to cover. When I reached the last area shown on the generous map in my hands, I got off at a local shopping center, a tiny, economically-challenged precursor to other giant malls closer to town. Community facilities are hard to find out here. When gang violence took over in the 1970’s, outsiders arrived to stage a production of Romeo and Juliet. Professionals filled the main roles, and kids brought in off the streets as extras understood the spirit of the play, with little explanation required.

An elderly woman was seated on a low brick wall outside the back entrance, with a view of the dingy apartment buildings dotting the hills beyond like forgotten bales of hay. Have a seat, Dearie, plenty of room here. She clutched shopping bags and smoked a cigarette, before I take a taxi back home, she volunteered. I live in a village nearby. This place is going to close down soon, there’s too many shops closing because of the recession. You having a nice visit here, are you? That’s lovely. Yes, Tom Hanks and Charlie Sheen like Glasgow, too – well, they didn’t come out here, they were in hotels in the center, but I heard they liked it.

I’m not sure what brought Tom Hanks to Glasgow, but about 10 years ago Charlie Sheen played an alcoholic detective from the USA chasing a serial murderer in Scotland. The good and the bad have broad appeal. Even Barack Obama pays homage, as we found out thanks to Katie Couric from CBS, who asked the presidential candidates to name their favourite movies.


Obama: My favorite has to be the opening scene of the first Godfather – where the caretaker comes in and Marlon Brando is sitting there and he is saying ‘you disrespected me, and now you want a favour’ …the combination of old world gentility and ritual with this savagery underneath it, and it’s all about families, it’s a great movie.