It was indeed a great day for Glasgow actor Peter Mullan when he lifted the best actor's prize at the Cannes Film Festival. While basking in the glory and the congratulations of les luvvies, Peter managed to keep his priorities right.
The prize was presented by director Martin Scorsese who just happens to Mr Mullan's ultimate hero. In fact, when Peter and friends gather for a half-pint before their beloved football matches, they call themselves the Martin Scorsese No. 1 Celtic Supporters Club.
Never a man to miss an opportunity, Peter had taken along his Celtic jersey to the awards ceremony and asked the great man to autograph it. Mr Scorsese was slightly puzzled but very happy to do so.
A document issued by Glasgow City Council gives advice to teachers on personal safety at school. This valuable document contains a section which warns to watch out for non-verbal signs such as:
n Red or white face;
n Shaking and pointing;
n Muscle tension in face and limbs;
n White knuckles;
n Darting/staring eyes;
n Depersonalised language - ''You people!''
Other practical tips for surviving the blackboard jungle include:
n Make sure when interviewing you have no objects on a desk or table that could be used by a potential aggressor;
n When meeting a possible aggressor make sure you are in a position near the door that will allow you to make a quick exit.
When the worst comes to the worst and it's fisticuffs time the section headed ''Being attacked'' tells the teachers: ''If you are about to be harmed, breath out to control the tension and don't freeze up.'' And ''If you are trapped, you should shout or scream.''
Possibly the best piece of advice, which certainly saw the Diary through many a dangerous day in the playground at Bellarmine High: ''If you are attacked . . . run for it.''
From Scenes Like These: An eye-witness account from Summerlee's Spring Fling last Sunday in the heritage centre in Coatbridge. Our informant writes: ''I overheard a toddler (complete with skinhead hairdo and earrings) ask his dad (an adult version of the toddler): 'Dad, what can we do next?' To which the dad replied: ''C'mon we'll go an' take the piss oot the clowns.' Lovely man, nice example.''
Great Excuses of Our Time: A husband and wife passing through customs at Glasgow Airport are stopped to have their luggage searched. In addition to the allowed quota of middle-tar British cigarettes, they also have a very large quantity of packets of Marlboro Lights. Asked to explain, the main said: ''They're for ma wife's emphysema.''
David Ross, a regular correspondent, forwards some French for Scots football fans at the World Cup.
Top of the list is a cry we might expect to hear from Frank McAvennie: Ou sont les oiseaux?
On the same subject is the the traditional chat-up line: Je suppose que mon trou est dehors de la question?
If, by ill luck, Scots fans should get involved in a spot of bother they can tell the French polis: Ils ont commence sans nous. Which means they started it, not us.
If, by chance, a fan has had too much to drink the night before, a hang-over cure can be sought by either Ou puis-je trouver de l'Irn Bru? or Ou puis-je trouver quelque chose pour guerir ma guele de bois? The latter translates very roughly as Where might I find a refreshing soft drink? My gub is like the bottom of a budgie's cage.
One phrase suggested by Mr Ross which, we fear, will not be required is: Ronaldo est nul - Ronaldo is rubbish.
You'll recognise the face of East Kilbride actor Gary Cross, even if you don't know the name. He's the fair-haired Tartan Army footsoldier getting Le Knock Back from the turnstiles in France, the wee guy huddled in misery outside the game, in the official advert advising you not to go near France if you haven't got a ticket.
Gary is a Tartan Army regular, and is currently girding his loins rampant for the trip. Has he got a single ticket for any of the games? No. But he's sure he'll get into the games anyway.
We have had occasion before to pass on interesting, almost unbelievable, items from the columns of the Arran Banner. A letter to the editor in a recent edition read: ''As a relative newcomer to the island I am constantly surprised by the tropical weather we enjoy here on Arran. I'm sure, however, that even locals would have been flabbergasted at what I saw last weekend whilst walking through Pirnmill.
''An elderly gentlemen was out tending his lovely garden (wearing what I might say were a rather short pair of shorts!) He beckoned me over towards a small fruit tree growing in the corner of his garden and as he bent down I could see two plums, quite ripe - and out in the fresh air!
''This is surely early in the year to be seeing ripe fruit outdoors even for Arran's standards. Have any other readers similar experiences?'' The letter is signed Mrs Mary Hinge.
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