One of the most prejudice-reinforcing
episodes in my life occurred in the autumn of 1979 in my home town of Glasgow.
It was a Monday. I was not quite17 and 2/3 years old. History records that, all
going well, I would ideally sit and hopefully pass the driving test my parents
had shelled out for the following day. History may also record that it’s just
as well I didn’t do either, but no matter. The facts can get stuffed. It’s the
principle of the matter.
A weary eye on a weary world.
