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..Two historic events today!!
With immaculate timing. John Smeato left Hospital at exactly the same time across the pond Barak Obama won the US election.
Unconnected? – I don’t think so..
Watch out for Smeato to be appointed to a top position in the Obama Administation! Secretary of State!!?? I’m not saying anything?
Here’s some more goodies!
The Sun article – 4th November Part 1 (PDF)
The Sun article – 4th November Part 2 (PDF)
One year to the day after the terror attack on Glasgow Airport, John Smeaton talks from New York City 30th June, 2008.
“Thank you everybody. Without your support it would have been a lot harder to get through this unbelievable year. It’s been absolutely brilliant, fantastic – I’ve met so many people. I’ve been to places I never ever thought I’d see in my life… New York… London… Barcelona… New York… New York! Manchester… Leeds… all over the world.
It just shows you how great the human race is… so many wonderful people… its been very humbling… but your support and the thousands of messages over this whole crazy year has been brilliant… and along the way if I’ve given you all a laugh… its all been worth it… every second of it…
I’ve quit my job, and I am on a wee journey right now… in more ways than one. I am in New York and then I am going to the West Coast.
I don’t know where it’s going to take me but one thing’s certain… I will always go home to Scotland… to Glasgow… always. Make no mistake about that. The other day someone wrote me an email and said ‘You can take the Smeato out of Scotland, but you can never take The Scotland out of Smeato.’ and that’s the truth.
My great Uncle Stevie, when I was a lad, he’d take me fishing, and he always told me ‘John what’s for you… will never go by you.‘ But you know, sometimes you have to stick your hand out and grab it.
It’s there and it’s for you…
But if you don’t notice it… it’ll go by you.”
I AM NEVER LEAVING GLASGOW! I’LL NEVER Leave Scotland!
Smeato was Spotted in London by our man in Claridges Thursday morning deep in animated conversation over his porridge with one of the UK’s leading politician leaders. Smeato we can exclusively reveal was on a flying top secret 12 hr visit to confer at the very highest levels of government…
THE BIG STORY TONIGHT
SMEATO is being lined up to take over from Gordo!
Yes tonight Westminster is awash with frenzied rumoours that SMEATO is being implored to take over as Prime Minister should Gordo be forced out as the economy falls off a cliff.
It is not widely generally known that Smeato is not just a world famous baggage handler hero but is also a Nobel Prize winning economic genius.
Smeato- as well as being able to sort out 320,853 missing bags single handed in 24 hours at Heathrow’s new Terminal 5 in March also was solely responsible for the Icelandic banking sectors against all the odds survival and the economic miracle success story that has made The Republic of Brazzaville Congo the world’s richest country.
Did you know that? Of course you didn’t did you? Go on admit it.
In the Great Man’s own words “you didn’t have a scoobie !”
SMEATO GOES TO THE PALACE!
Tuesday 4th March 2008
Our man heads South again this Tuesday for a very big day indeed in the life of our Humble Hero..(As I am sure, all who saw last Tuesday’s the BBC 1 TV documentary: ‘John Smeaton Everyday Hero’ will agree…)
So as long as the Smeatonator’s train pulls into King’s Cross station in London in time all you Londoners look out for a kilt clad Smeato jumping on the bus at Kings Cross to get across to Buckingham Palace for 10 clock in the morning to pick up THE QUEEN’S GALLANTRY MEDAL!
I am guessing Her Majesty Herself will be pinning it on John’s chest… but who knows? Maybe that’s the real reason Harry was flown back yesterday…!
My Smeato mole at The Palace tells me the bemedalled baggage handler will be emerging from the main gates at around 1pm… So if you want to buy him another few thousand pints or just want to say well done in person to the Big Man… just turn up outside the palace.
From all the people here at the world wide phenomenon aka www.johnsmeaton.com we just want to say “Congratulations John!” You did the right thing… the thing we all wish we would do if we were in a similar situation.
And you spoke for us all that day when you said those now immortal words that echoed round the world and made us all proud… “Don’t come to Glasgow ..cos we’ll set aboot ye!”
Dark days in the johnsmeaton.com office, dark days.
Where once the secure, encrypted, pay-as-you-go mobile phone was ringing constantly, now it sits silently, forlorn, bereft of further word from Him.
It’s Not You, It’s Me
“Where did it all go wrong?”, I ask myself pleadingly, haunted eyes cast up to the shrine of ‘Soaraway Sun – Give John A Gong‘ clippings on the wall that charts the rise and rise of the Smeatonator. Was it something I said? All I know is that since our fateful meeting, nothing has been the same. The hands of the clock tick grimly round as I sigh and stare out the window thinking of what could have been.
You’re Such A Nice Guy
It seemed to go so well, too. There was much laddish joshing and flying kick technique demonstrations. He even showed me where the ferrets used to live.
But I don’t even want to talk about it. It’s too much right now.
Elated after our meeting, I had decided to start preparing for the imminent T in the Park appearance. Entering the prestigious shopping arcade under Central Station, I called in at each and every establishment.
Shopping spree
Only in Glasgow can any possible shopping need be met within 100 yards in constant near darkness. And all with the oppressive odour of freshly fried fish (using 100% vegetable oil) throughout.
High Rollers
First stop: the hip hop shop. I was shopping for me and My Man. VIP at ‘the T’, we were going to need some serious bling to match the Cristal we would surely be sipping as we high-fived and hand-picked the groupies that we wished to ‘entertain’. I pictured myself as Vanilla Ice to his 50 Cent.
Bling for a King
Matching J&S silver chains were purchased. Two Biggy Smalls rectangular faced perpetual motion Cartiers with diamond-encrusted wristbands were impatiently pointed at and duly wrapped. Fingers were clicked; handfulls of baseball caps were dropped into a groaning plastic bag.
The one on the right, minion!
St Tropez Glow
A tan top up was next on the shopping list, and the Sunset Beach duly obliged for the princely sum of £4. As the coins dropped into the slot and the room was lit with ultraviolet, my ears were filled with the sound of helicopter blades, and the vision of landing at Balado Apocalypse Now stylee, the LZ ringed by glowering Rock Steady man mountains holding back the surging throng chanting “Smeato…Smeato…Smeato…”
With but a brief glance in the window of the gun/crossbow/knife shop, I hurried along to see the King Tut himself to finalise the details of the appearance. As I huffed and puffed up Blythswood Street, I could feel myself swept along, with an imaginary William Wallace next to me and an army of brave Weegies urging us onward.
Mr Smeaton Has Left The Building
Of course, there were some trifling matters to be resolved. Of ‘security’ and ‘running schedules’. But these would surely be left to the little people to worry about. The big picture was what mattered.
Confidently hauling the tome of Smeato fanmail from my trusty knapsack, I waved it under the nose of the receptionist. These were the thousands of words of support from round the World that surely guaranteed the ‘T’ finale that the nation requires. The portcullis in the reception of DF Concerts was hauled up. Out marched a steely PR woman – a far cry from the King Tut I was expecting with open arms and a playful mock banjo’ing.
PR Woman Speak With Forked Tongue
I implored, she refused. I begged, she stared icily. I cried, “It’s for the good of the land!”, but still she was unmoved. The sheaf of Smeatomail – YOUR WORDS – lay in a sad pile on the floor, cast aside like so much ferret poo. Like a robot (and not a good one, not Metal Mickey, more like one of the ones from that Will Smith movie) she repeated the well worn fobbbing-off words “Security”, “Running Schedule”, and (sniffily) “This isn’t Glastonbury“. She said, “We’re having a meeting tonight and I’ll see what I can do”, but in my heart it felt like the end of The Dream.
Countdown to Smeatogeddon
She turned on her heel and walked. The portcullis slammed down behind her. johnsmeaton.com had been chewed up and spat out by the Machine. Who can say what will happen if T in the Park takes place without an appearance by the Smeatonator? Smeatogeddon will be at hand. Unless. Unless you call DF Concerts immediately on 0141 221 5279 and bark these very words down the line:
“SCOTLAND DEMANDS THE APPEARANCE OF JOHN SMEATON ON THE MAIN STAGE ON SUNDAY NIGHT. ONLY YOU CAN SAVE MANKIND FROM SMEATOGEDDON”
Pariah
The hordes of imaginary warriors outside King Tut’s had disappeared. William Wallace, in disgust with my failure, had gone to The Bunker to drown his sorrows and wipe the saltire makeup off his face.
And still the johnsmeaton.com mobile phone refused to ring. Despite my lengthy audience with him on that sunny Wednesday and the terms on which we had parted, I had been huckled into a dark corner of Mitchell Lane by men in dark suits, sunglasses and earpieces and informed in no uncertain terms that, as a matter of National Security, the content of our chat had to remain hush hush until I was ordered what I could say, and when.
Zip It, Wee Man, Or We’ll Set About Ye
One nip followed another in Soba to calm my nerves after my near-banjoing by the shadowy Security Services. As the hours dragged by and my head drooped ever closer to the table, I realised that perhaps I had been duped, and that worse, I had duped YOU. Please forgive my adolescent elation after my 2 hours with The Man. I wasn’t even meant to mention the ferrets – I have done that as one small act of defiance.
Even the Holiday Inn at Glasgow Airport isn’t returning my calls. What’s wrong with these people? You slam 4 grand down on a bar and say, “I need 1,200 pints for This Man”, and they just shrug. They say their schedule is full. Full? What could possibly be more important than The Big Night Oot For The Big Man?
Laughter Through The Tears
This morning, it felt like time to shut up shop. To go back to the small cold life being led before Smeatomania. To resign to one’s fate and clock in once more. But then, in the ‘Soaraway’ Sun – a slight glimmer of hope. A small event that might, just, might keep hope alive. At a packed press conference late last night, the unlikely figure of Janette Krankee gave me hope. As journalists struggled to keep up with her fulsome praise of the Smeatonator and the other heroes from the day, one message came across loud and clear.
“John should be awarded immediately. He’s a national hero.â€Â
With a flash of the double thumbs up, and a cheeky wink, she was gone. But she had done her bit. It was worth going on. Janette – you’re going to be invited to the Night Oot, and I demand the first dance.
And then – more breaking good news.
On The Head
Barrhead Travel, clearly recognising the vast debt owed to them by this small tribute website, have donated £100 vouchers (scroll ye down) to all tha main men from last Saturday. Perhaps a joint £99 week in Ibiza for them all is now on the cards.
But there’ll be no week away clubbing the nite away for johnsmeaton.com. Here, we remain committed to the cause. While SmeaT in the Park might be up in smoke, to our bitter regret, we will continue our efforts to setup a fitting Big Night Oot.
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If you still have Smeaton energy that you wish to put to good use, sign ye the Government website petition.
