drift six: duck soup


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  • Ed - 12 August 2011 -

    May, this is such a brilliant and moving post. Thank you for your memory and memorial, both in words so caring of person and place, and photographs so uncynical.

    Once upon a time… we lived for each other. Remains invisible but still felt, still talked about, still remembered. We went to see the Waverley come in to Millport pier this week and lots of people including me were in tears, remembering those daisies who had once boarded but now disembarked. A connection was made with young Anna who cannot know her great grandad but is still part of this fabric we call scotland.

  • May Miles Thomas - 13 August 2011 -

    Thanks Ed, as always, for taking the time to comment.

    This wasn’t the easiest of posts to write and even now, months after the event, our brother’s death weighs heavily, our family having had none of the trappings or ceremony needed for consolation, just a box of human remains couriered to my front door on a rainy Tuesday.

    Working in Govan brings perspective, where premature death is such a casual occurence and a humbling lesson in forbearance, reminding us we are not alone. I’ve found more hope in Govan than in its affluent neighbours and I’m all the better for it.

  • abeattie23 - 16 August 2011 -

    great writing as usual. So sad concerning your brother.

  • Peter Ross - 24 August 2011 -

    Hello May. I just wanted to say how much I like these blogs or ‘drifts’. They are always so thoughtful, atmospheric, elegiac and moving. Sorry, again, for your loss and thank you, again, for allowing me to interview you at what was a very hard moment. All the best. Peter

  • john mckay - 4 September 2020 -

    Regarding the Corky. The Ardgowan. I lived at top end of weir street and as a wee boy practically lived in the place, Far from being a flea pit it was a clean and well managed cinema.
    The lower level known as the pit could be accessed for 7 pence old money. The balcony was 9 pence old money and had comfortable seats affording good viewing not onto a white sheet tacked to a wall but a veritable CinemaScope screen in the 1950’s.
    It was a popular cinema for the people of the area which had a big population given it was surrounded by tenements. It had shows monday/tuesday changing wednesday/thursday and again friday/ saturday. The arrival of television cut the audience numbers down. But always big queues on a saturday night. I believe I received a good education in many ways from the Corky. Painted large on it’s outside wall on Ardgowan street….The Home of the Happy. For me and my pals that was true.

    • May Miles Thomas - 7 September 2020 -

      Thanks for your comment, John. I was very young at the time but I recall going regularly to the Corky with my grandmother and uncle, usually on Saturdays when my mother, a hairdresser, was working. In my blog I referred to how memory can play tricks on you and how one’s recollections can often depart from the reality. It’s a reflection of how popular culture – in this case how – subconsciously – a local cinema, any local cinema can become a ‘flea pit.’ It’s not meant to be literal. Given that the Corky sat 1400 people and was a custom-built cinema, it was hardly a dump. I spent many happy times there, escaping the actual dump I lived in – a room and kitchen with no toilet. Happy days indeed!


      • Donald Brown - 25 February 2023 -

        I remember the Korky cinema very well, my twin sister and I used to go every Saturday morning and see films like Flash Gordon, we stayed in Avon Street and I well remember walking across Watt Street to Ardgowan st holding my sisters hand, Happy days.

        • May Miles Thomas - 26 February 2023 -

          Thanks for that, Donald – many of my relatives lived in the area – my granny was in Houston Street and my auntie lived in Carnoustie Street and another lot were in Watt Street. I practically lived there – we were in Kinning Park, a short walk away. I loved going to the Korky. I always went with my granny. Happy days indeed.