I know what you're thinking, you're alone now, no love of your own, but darling.....

As Young Ben and I were reading about The Gruffalo's Child last night with accompanying noises I recalled a recent blog I read by anelephantcant about what we read at home and what we read at school. I fully agreed with the point made that reading at school is often seen as a chore whilst reading books of your own choice at home is a pleasure.

The books I read when I was younger were recommended to me by my father and in turn I encouraged my own children to read these books. Classics like Animal Farm, Of Mice And Men, The Old Man And The Sea and The Catcher In The Rye. I don't mean my children read these at Primary School, at that time they would be enjoying the delights of the wonderful Roald Dahl and his Enormous Crocodile or his BFG. I believe we read them all and I look forward to reading them again with Young Ben

As my sons have grown older book recommendations have become a reciprocal agreement and they have introduced me to some excellent books and authors which I might otherwise have missed...books like The Book Thief, Half Of A Yellow Sun and Shantaram. When my youngest son spent some time in India last year I found myself reading books set in that region such as A Fine Balance and Q and A (which was made into the movie Slumdog Millionaire) and this led me to try more contemporary books such as The Kite Runner and The Reluctant Fundamentalist which are two of the best books I have ever read

It seems to me it is not just reading which is affected by our own families. My musical tastes were definitely influenced by my two older brothers. I cannot give my father too much credit with this category although I do sometimes listen to Mr Jolson if I am feeling particularly nostalgic. Growing up in Ayr in The Sixties my brothers were both in their teens and I recall fondly listening to Dylan, Elvis and The Beatles with some Leonard Cohen thrown in if you had just been "dumped". However my most vivid musical memory is of my oldest brother coming home from town one day with his latest purchased "single" and proceeding to play Reach Out by The Four Tops Ad infinitum. You would think this would have put me off this song but to this day it remains one of my favourites and whenever it comes on the radio I still get a tingle down my spine as I am taken back in time to special days gone by.

As years passed I developed my own musical tastes and then in turn tried to pass these on to my sons. Some were successful like Springsteen, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye others like Roxy Music or Steely Dan not so much In turn my sons have attempted to make me listen to more modern music. Most of this has fallen on stony ground but I am not averse to some John Legend or Kanye West and I found those Arctic Monkey fellows reasonably entertaining. I sometimes switch from Smooth Radio to Radio 1 for ten minutes to show that I am still "down with the kids" but by actually using the phrase "down with the kids" I have patently shown that I am in fact nowhere near to being "down with the kids".

At least Young Ben has not quite realised this yet but I get the impression he is catching on fast. The fact that I was singing Two Little Boys to him the other night has probably not helped my cause in any way but at least it did get him off to sleep (I think he was worried about Joe and those loud cannons). I reassured him the next day that it all ended well for Joe. Next time I will try a somewhat cheerier song like Old Shep or Alone Again (Naturally)

whistling tunes we hide in the dunes by the seaside

So Young Ben and I were playing chess the other day and I tried to get him with the old four move Fool's Mate. "Do you think I am only five months old?" he chuckled contemptuously and proceeded to destroy me with his Latvian Gambit. When you teach someone how to play a game of any skill, you know that the first time they beat you is the beginning of the end. Your own victories will become rare after that until you reach the stage of a "pity" victory. At that stage it is time to start playing a different game.

I speak from bitter experience here with three sons who show no compassion when it comes to beating their father at anything and I don't expect any different from Ben (not that I would want it any other way)

I have written previously about our family holidays in Rothesay and it was during evenings here, with no computers and only a small black and white television, that our game skills were honed. This was where my sons were introduced to the delights of dominoes, various card games and some games which I think my dad made up as he went along and altered the rules to suit.

Games such as pitch and toss which did nothing for the skirting paintwork, shove ha'penny and my own personal favourite which we just knew as "coins" or "matches" where each player has three coins, puts his hands behind his back and brings forward a closed fist with either 0,1,2 or 3 coins in it and the object is to guess the total number of coins produced by all players. My dad was a master of tactics here and introduced "bluffs" where he would scratch his face with his "free"hand leading you to believe that he had three coins in his closed fist (when in reality he had left coins behind his back) or even the "double-bluff" where he actually did have three coins in his fist. Watching my young sons take this in and try to introduce their own tactics was a special time

I notice that my sons still use the "rock/paper/scissors" game to decide certain major decisions in life such as whose round it is, who is going in the shower first and probably some decisions that it's best I don't know about.

As years went by in Rothesay we became more civilised and prepared and would actually take board games with us. I recollect fondly the joys of Connect 4, Battleships and Guess Who. "Does your person have glasses, red hair and a beard?" ..."Yes"..."Is it Sue?"

Being a football family we obviously also had Subbuteo but there was not really enough room for that which resulted in major on-field casualties. Some players were broken and put back together again more often than Steve Austin (that's The Six Million Dollar Man not the wrestler). These poor chaps ended up looking more Jimmy Johnstone than Peter Crouch but some just never played again after being knelt on from above

Then as the boys grew older we would progress to Cluedo, Monopoly and the horrendous Risk or the more sophisticated Balderdash and Pictionary but in truth I think we were always happiest with coins behind our back or throwing them at a wall

In rainy days in Rothesay the old Panini Stickers Books were also a Godsend (strange that a devout atheist would use that word, maybe there's hope for me yet). These could prove expensive however, when you had three sons each with their own sticker book and 32 teams at a World Cup with about 20 players per team that's a lot of stickers and you had to keep buying them until all books were complete even if you had 14 Terry Butchers by that time, we still needed that Egyptian defender whose name I cannot remember. Hopefully by the time Ben starts doing Panini Stickers Scotland might actually be back at a World Cup

Anyway I am off to brush up on my baccarat skills. I haven't taught Ben that one yet and I need to beat him at something while I still can

as I stood there in the morning rain, I had a feeling I can't explain

So, Young Ben is flying out to Tenerife next month with his mum and dad and this had me thinking how attitudes to travel and holidays have changed over the years.

I was in my twenties before I was on a plane for the first time and even that was a short hop from Newcastle to Amsterdam. It wasn't the first time I had been abroad but up until then I had always gone by Ferry across the Channel. I remember one time in the Sixties I went with my mum and dad and my eldest brother to France and we set off from Ayr in a Mini. My dad had constructed a "home-made" metal roof-rack and within a dozen miles or so it had slid off the back of the car and our luggage was strewn across the A76. My dad was fairly pragmatic about this kind of event, so the roof-rack was dumped in a ditch along with any other non-essential items, the boot lid was folded down and the luggage strapped on and off we set again, heading for Paris. To the best of my knowledge that roof-rack was never retrieved and may be dug up by some future generation and heralded as a great discovery. The thought of travelling to Paris nowadays by road sounds like a nightmare but back then it was a great adventure.

In contrast my own children were flying abroad on holidays from a very early age including a 24 hour flight to Australia when my youngest had only just turned two. I should point out here, they were accompanied by their parents and not just sent off somewhere from time to time.

I had never been to The States until we went there as a family to do the whole "Disney Experience" in The Nineties. For some reason I had always put off going to The States but once I went I was "blown away" and have since been back several times. On one of our trips we took my father with us. It was strange to see a man in his seventies on Space Mountain and Splash Mountain but if he went on a roller coaster it meant there was no way that I could "chicken out". I had to maintain some form of credibility. I recall losing my baseball cap as we hurtled down Splash Mountain and when I went back to the starting point to see if it had been handed in the staff opened a door to a shed filled with hundreds of sodden caps. Obviously I was not the only one to suffer this fate

In more recent times I have been back across The Pond on my own. When I turned 50 I fulfilled a promise to myself and had a holiday in San Francisco. As a child growing up in The Sixties, San Francisco had always carried a mystical quality and I must say it did not disappoint. I think it is my favourite place in the world. Walking across The Golden Gate Bridge with the sun shining, looking over the bay...it just doesn't get any better than that. Add in Cable Cars, Alcatraz, Fisherman's Wharf,Pier 39, Coit Tower,trips to Sausalito, Monterey and Carmel...I could go on all day. It's just a special part of the world

I have since been to New York twice and it is also an amazing city (and much easier to reach). Walking across The Brooklyn Bridge with the wind in your face (yes I really like bridges)...it's not San Fran, but it's a close second. The first time I went, I arrived on Thanksgiving Day and my hotel was just off Times Square. That night it seemed to me like the busiest spot in the world and the atmosphere and lights all around from the advertising signs just took my breath away. I recall taking the open top bus tour and singing "Across 110th Street" as we headed for Harlem. The second time I went was with my mate for his 50th and we were there the night The Giants won The Superbowl. That was a fun night.

I leave you this week with my Top 5 Florida Theme Park Rides

1. Tower Of Terror ...the attention to detail in the hotel and the drop give it top spot
2. Jaws...may seem a bit tame now but at the time it was (j)awesome
3. Back To The Future...where we're going we don't need roads
4. Splash Mountain...lulls you in to a false sense of security with the gentle pace and music, then whoosh...hold on to your hats
5. Kumba at Busch Gardens...now that's what I call a roller coaster

Special mention here to It's A Small World at Magic Kingdom which wins the award for most annoying ride and song. Anyone who has experienced it will now be singing the song for the rest of the day (I know I am even as I type this)

yeah darlin' gonna make it happen, take the world in a love embrace,fire all of your guns at once and explode into space

As a change from the Cricket World Cup Young Ben and I were watching the wonderful Vintage TV Music Channel the other morning before our walk and who should come on but Led Zeppelin followed by Steppenwolf. This took me back to the first real live music I ever saw back in 1970 when as a 15 year old my two older brothers took me to Bath Festival. We were living in Ayr at the time and they hired a car for the weekend and off we went. To an impressionable teen like myself it was a fantastic adventure and when I look back now at the line up of artists it is understandable why it was so special...Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Moody Blues, Santana, It's A Beautiful Day, Frank Zappa, Jefferson Airplane and my own personal favourite of the time Steppenwolf with their classic "Born To Be Wild". The only slightly sour note of the weekend was that on the way home after driving through the night,we stopped in Cumnock, some 16 miles from Ayr, to phone our mum to start making the bacon sandwiches and as my brother was exiting the car a passing wagon clipped the door of our car. No one was hurt physically but the I seem to recall the loss of the deposit seemed to cause severe pain to my brothers at the time.

After this I regularly went to concerts and in the 70s when we lived in the North East of England I would often travel to Newcastle to see the likes of Genesis, Roxy Music, 10CC, The Who, Cat Stevens and Steve Harley. I remember seeing Roxy Music in Newcastle with Leo Sayer as supporting act. This was when he wore the full clown's outfit and performed songs from his Silverbird album including the excellent "The Show Must Go On". I also recall seeing The Sensational Alex Harvey Band at The Locarno in Sunderland and that was entertaining

I recall in 1974 travelling down with friends to Wembley to see Crosby Stills Nash and Young, Joni Mitchell and The Band. Although I have always been a big fan of Joni I think I only went to that concert because I thought Dylan might turn up to play with The Band. Unfortunately he did not. Dylan was my main man until Springsteen came along and I finally saw him for my one and only time at Earl's Court in 1978. He did not disappoint.

As I have mentioned before I consider The 80s a fairly barren time for music and concerts attended during that time with my then wife and friends included Tina Turner, Rod Stewart, Simply Red, Dire Straits and the hugely disappointing Prince. During this time however Mr Springsteen was a solitary star shining in an otherwise black sky and his 1985 Born In The USA concert at St James Park, Newcastle remains to this day the finest concert I have ever seen. I have seen him since in Paris, Glasgow and twice in Manchester but that first time was definitely the best

After years of seldom going to concerts I started to take an interest again in the 2000s and saw and enjoyed James Blunt (yes, saw and enjoyed), Damien Rice, Eminem and The Killers. I also saw half a Paul Simon concert when my mate said there was no way he would be on at the specified time obviously not aware that Mr Simon is an extremely punctual fellow. Fortunately I was not late for an Art Garfunkel concert in Edinburgh as he was on and off stage within the hour. In 2008 I finally saw one of my other great favourites when my son and I saw Stevie Wonder at The O2 arena. He was superb.

Recent concerts have been more sedate. At The Glasgow Concert Hall I saw Glen Campbell, who at 74 could still put on a great show but unfortunately not remember his own son's name who was part of the backing band and last year Brian Wilson, who was also excellent if slightly frail.
The most bizarre concert I saw in recent years was Steven Seagal and Thunderbox at The Renfrew Ferry in Glasgow. Let's just say that his singing made his acting look accomplished

I have tried to talk Young Ben into coming with me to see Neil Diamond at Hampden Park this summer but he says he is washing his hair that night. Strangely I haven't actually told him what night it is but it looks as if I will have to Sing my Song Blue on my own that night