NOT SO GOOD A DEAD ARMADILLO, BUT CHECK OUT THE DETAIL!

I wasn’t looking for a link between the two. The connection just surfaced as I went on my daily walk around the suburbs. Ive always loved pylons and love more the fact that people hate them – ‘eyesores’ ‘ruining the landscape’ (I don’t see you complaining about that wee twirly thing spinning around in your electric box for, amongst other things, running you a hot bath on a cold winters night?) ‘horrendous monsters’ just a few opinions of the many.

I was up in the highlands one summer and we stopped the car to take in the view. It was breathtaking. The vast swoop of lowlands rising up like a heaving wave towards the heavens, monumental mountains disappearing up through low cloud. I swear I could hear the clatter of ancient clans clashing, showing off their tartans through the misty rain and I swore I heard a distant voice shouting:

Freeeeeedoooom!!!”

But it wasn’t. It was my wife standing beside the locked car, because I had the keys, in the pishing rain, shouting:

Freeeeziiiiiiiiiiiin!!!”

From my vantage point I couldn’t help but  notice the long army of majestic pylons marching up the hills in single file, all strung out, one to another, sculptural straight lines in the curved landscape, like a back up army in War Of The Worlds. Until they go underground or wireless with the power, then, in my sore eyes, an impressive sight to behold. In fact, lets compromise, why don’t we call them Majestic Eyesores? I for one think we need a wee poke in the eye from time to time. (I found out later that my Dad helped erect a string of these back in the 70’s – another wee dark horse of a feather in your cap Pops?!). Now where does the Armadillo come into all of this. Let me tell you. If you ever visit Glasgow you might take a trip to see the SEC Armadillo building – for a gig or the architecture or to rub your head against it (if you have hair) to get some static –  so called because it looks like a giant armadillo – in fact, the locals will tell you, if asked as to it’s whereabouts:

“Awe! The giant croissant up the toon aside the Clyde!” which I prefer.

So from Glasgow/Scotland to Austin/Texas, there’s the link. I know it’s not the best connection, I agree, but do I give a dead armadillos arse? What do you think?

A little known fact is that back in the days of  The Great Depression, armadillo was to be found on the kitchen table of many a homestead and because they blamed President Hoover for the Depression (and the critters tasted like pork) they where called ‘Hoover Hogs’. So stick that in your oven and roast it!