Being at the Scribblers Picnic

Nowadays, the words ‘Music Festival’ are most synonymous with the likes of

T in the Park, Reading and Rock Ness.  Gatherings of tens of thousands of folk - in big, muddy fields – who’ve enjoyed a fair few cans of beer, to watch, and sing along to, some of the biggest names in music. Gemma and Ross both assure me that camping in said big muddy fields is brilliant fun and that the discomfort and mankiness of it all is a small price to pay for the fantastic atmosphere, brilliant music and camaraderie of the festival. I love live music – but I also like my home comforts, so I’ve never fancied any of these big festivals. Unless Freddie Mercury rose from the grave to play at Glastonbury, I don’t imagine I ever will!

Music festivals, originally, were small events held to showcase talent in the local community, and some were organised to raise funds for local community projects or people in need. Yesterday, in my home town of Stirling, I had the absolute pleasure of performing with the choir at a festival that does exactly that. The Scribblers Picnic is a relatively new event; the first one was organised ten years ago in memory of local journalist (‘the Scribbler’), teacher and talented musician Graham Whitelaw who died of cancer in 2001. The event’s profile has grown during the past decade, but it has never lost sight of its original purpose; to remember a popular local musician by celebrating the diversity of local musical talent, providing the whole family with some fun, and raising a whole load of dosh for local charities in the process.

At yesterday's event, the choir performed on the main stage before a whole host of other local acts. The crowds weren’t massive and the stage wasn’t huge – but, boy, did it feel good to be standing shoulder to shoulder with my choir buddies singing in my first home town gig - especially when it was to support a load of worthwhile local causes! To make it even more special for me, Alex was there to support us. It’s the first time he’s heard the choir and I’d swear the big softie had a wee tear in his eye! It totally made my day that he’d enjoyed it so much and it was great to introduce him to some of the friends that I’ve been spending the past umpteen Monday evenings with. It’s always been the case (and always will be the case) that things - even things that I thoroughly enjoy as they are - are made even better if Alex’s a part of them.

It was an ideal day to be busy. I was a wee bit sad that, for the third year in a row, Gemma was away from home for her birthday (virtual birthday hugs just aren’t the same!) and I was a wee bit sad as it was Father’s Day. However, it was lovely to soak up the atmosphere with a few beers (or a fair few in Alex’s case!) while watching some of the other acts and having a donner around the stalls before leaving for home.

Nope, the Picnic wasn’t quite Glastonbury - there were no famous headline acts, no inflated ticket prices and no drunk people peeing in bottles - but it was a music festival in every other way. And it was definitely my favourite kind!