So much for dry January. There's always fasting February.

Having fled to the sunshine of Costa del Sol over the festive weeks, with a healthy helping of vino tinto at 2 to 3 euros a glass and a pint of foaming stuff at 2 euros a time, it would have been rude to say no.

I'm back home, and I won't drink any more. Mind you, I suspect I won't drink any less. Well, it is the Burns season, and I'll raise a toast or three, and Tam O' Shanter does like the ale to be flowing during a gallop.

And how was southern Spain, I hear you ask? Mucho bueno. Very good. We prefer to forsake Santa's visit down the chimney in Baltic Scotland in order to buy sunshine instead.

So, what if there was a cacophony of squawking from the colony of green parrots in the palm tree underneath our suntrap balcony every day. It was, erm, exotic. Funnily enough, chirpy, chirpy, cheep, cheep was a theme of our sojourn to the Costa.

We were minding our own business in Sam's Bar in Palm Tree Avenue as we awaited two sets of New Year midnight bells, the first for Spain - an hour ahead - and then the UK chimes.

We actually intended to head home to the apartment for the British bells on TV, but we couldn't leave because the entertainer was Glaswegian Angie Scott whose voice was a mix of Stevie Nicks (Fleetwood Mac) and Maggie Bell (Stone The Crows vocalist).

Angie, for some years, was lead singer with Middle of the Road, the Scottish band, who had a 1971 number one with Chirpy, Chirpy, Cheep, Cheep.

Ah, I hear you say, sir and madam, that Sally Carr was the vocalist. Correct answer. In fact, they knew each other in the Glasgow pop and rock scene of the early 70s and, strangely enough, I now know both of them, pictured.

A few years ago I was directing and narrating a musical called Invisible with songwriter friend Robin Lucas. We did two summer seasons in the former Lounge Bar in Largs and played various theatres around the west of Scotland. It was about people recovering from ABI, Acquired Brain Injury, a condition that occurred to Sally Carr.

When we first rehearsed at Quarriers' Centre in Paisley, Sally was one of the members of the charity's Sunshine Club and we'd hoped that she would appear and sing in our show.

As it happened, Sally recovered sufficiently to return to nostalgic pop shows in Europe with a revamped Middle of the Road.

Two weeks ago I was sitting in another Spanish bar, relating this story to a friend and as I got up to leave, a song came on in the bar next door. It was Chirpy, Chirpy etc. Someone, something, somewhere was obviously listening. And, remember, there is no coincidence. There is only synchronicity.

Perhaps it was the song the parrots in the palm tree were singing every a screeching sort of way?

And what of Invisible, which we fondly described as "a musical for head cases"? It was stopped in its tracks by lockdown after 23 live shows, though there is a recording from The Beacon Arts Centre in Greenock available on YouTube.

We have linked up with professional TV actor Stephen Duffy from Saltcoats to try to take it to the next level; a workshop with a professional cast and musicians, including friend Robin.

If anyone would like to invest in its development get in touch. Give me a chirpy, chirpy, cheep, cheep.

PS: After a few years of singing with Middle of the Road, Angie Scott fae Partick formed Angie and The Waves who performed at the former Moorings ballroom in Largs, and other parts of the world.

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Thought for the Week: Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what the hell happened.

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This has never been a column for fulminating pointlessly on world affairs but, like the rest of you, I despair about the wars, violence, lawlessness and the 24/7 media exaggeration of the fear factor.

This is particularly the case on climate change but I recently came across the following words of Sheik Rashid, the founder of Dubai.

"My grandfather rode a camel," he said, "my father rode a camel, I ride a Mercedes, my son drives a Land Rover and my grandson is going to drive a Landrover; but my great grandson will have to ride a camel again.

"You have to raise warriors, not parasites. Past civilisations were not conquered by external enemies, they rotted from within."

He went on to observe: "The greatest Western generation consisted of eighteen-year-old kids storming the beaches of Normandy, and, now, two generations later, the young people want to hide in safe rooms when they hear words that hurt their feelings.

"Hard times create strong men, strong men create easy times, easy times create weak men and weak men create difficult times."

His meaning, I think, is about today's 'woke' culture, where too many people, especially the young generations, seem to be perpetually offended, perpetually protesting.

Who teaches them to be that way?