I was thinking of the great days I spent in Dundee in 76-77.
We would go to Arbroath at the weekend, have smokies, then spend an evening at the pub.
There were old people there (I was 20) playing the fiddle and the accordion. The bartender's name was of course Jim. He had whiskers that even in the 70s were so "picturesque". He trembled so much when taking the bottle of whisky, yet, he would hand you a glass filled to the brim, without wasting a single drop.
Clichés of course, but I have so many happy memories. I wish the Scots will find a way to stay in Europe, they're such nice people...