Local hero

EXPERTS in the field inform us that only a small number of professional archaeologists shoot guns, crack whips and ride horses through busy city streets.

Apparently such skills aren’t even covered in your standard archaeology honours course.

Instead, exams focus on yawnsome topics such as ancient history and mouldy bones lurking in mud.

Thankfully, Professor Indiana Jones does get involved in various energetic pursuits, and his latest adventure, which was partially filmed in Glasgow, is thrilling movie fans across the globe.

Reader Rod Muir was especially delighted, for while watching the flick he spotted that Dr Jones has a cosy flat in Glasgow’s Parnie Street.

Says Rod: “Perhaps all the heroes of the silver screen are secretly based in the West of Scotland. The Hulk probably has a semi-detached in Shawlands. He’d certainly be at home in the Dear Green Place.”

Mean street musings

FROM movies … to books. Fiction fan Jennifer Somerville is looking forward to reading The Second Murderer, the latest offering from crime scribe Denise Mina.

Mina lives in Glasgow, though the novel’s set in LA, and the protagonist is Philip Marlowe, the legendary shamus created by the late Raymond Chandler.

Says Jennifer: “I can’t wait to get a copy. Though the title’s disappointing. Mina should have blended a previous Marlowe novel with a smidgen of Glesga gumshoe gumption. Turning Chandler’s The Long Goodbye into… The Long Toodle-oo The Noo.”

The big crunch

FOOD for thought. “I note,” says reader Robert Menzies, “that Lanarkshire baker Bells is increasing production by 100,000 more pies per week to cope with demand. Which begs the eternal question. Who ate all the pies?”

Demon doggy

THE heatwave blitzing parts of Europe has been named Cerberus after the terrifying hound guarding the gates of hell in Greek mythology.

“A pal of mine had a pet dog called Cerberus,” says reader Maurice Burns, “though disappointingly he was a poodle.”

Adds Maurice: “He’d have been rubbish at guarding the gates of hell. Too fond of getting his tummy tickled.”

Phone-y excuse

THE son of reader Anna Craig mislaid his mobile phone on a night out.

“I can’t believe you lost it!” growled Anna.

“That’s one way of looking at it,” responded the insouciant youth.

“What d’you mean?” said Anna.

“Well,” continued the teen, “if you were being a bit more sympathetic, you’d say my phone lost me.”

Soul reason

PARSIMONIOUS Ted Bower admits he’s wary when purchasing footwear. “I never buy trainers with Velcro,” he says. “They’re a complete rip-off.”