Many years have passed since I was a young lad. I can remember the very early years in London; the red underground trains (before silver was the usual colour), and the butcher who used to scare the life out of me crashing his meat cleaver onto the counter. I remember the overnight train journey up to Perth. It was one of the last steam trains, and mum tucked myself and my brother in at each end of end of the top bunk, and had the bottom bunk to herself. It felt great tickling toes! Dad met us at Perth station. It was November 1964, and still a month until my fourth birthday. We settled in to our new life. So much was different then; only two t.v. channels, but then we hadn't had t.v. at all in London. I can remember watching the spools of my father's reel to reel tape recorder slowly turning, and the sounds of Jimmy Shand and Andy Stewart issuing forth. I still love that music; I have nothing against the bagpipes but for me the piano accordion will always be Scotland's number one instrument. At school, although I got some stick for being a sassenach, I soon picked up a Scots accent. It always annoys me when English actors try to speak Scots, because I know I can do ten times better. There used to be the "White Heather Club" on t.v., Jimmy Shand, Andy Stewart and many more. The years went by, and we came back down to Manchester in 1973. Mum's family roots were in Lancashire, and she was right at home, but for me it was a bit strange. The accent was different and the kids seemed a bit less respectful to their parents. In Perth we did a bit of Scottish Country Dancing, and just when I was starting to get reasonably good at it, noticing a few girls (I was twelve by then), we came down to Manchester and the music was different as well. Well, I have had a long time to attune myself to England's north-west, but I left a part of me back in Perth. A parting thought, "Auld lang syne" means "Old long since" in standard English, times that have passed now, along with my dad.