I first encountered a blog about 11 years ago. It was called 'Alastair's Heart Monitor', and had been set up by a family friend, Alastair McSporran, as means of passing the time whilst he convalesced after his heart surgery. Had he been an ordinary, run-off-the-mill lawyer, the blog would probably been a rather dull affair.
Alastair was anything but ordinary.
He was probably the nearest thing to a man of letters that I've ever met. A quick glance at his 'Favourite Books' posts reveal a taste so broad that it included, Tolstoy, Dickens, Poe, Conan Doyle, Orwell, Philip K. Dick, Stephen King, John Betjeman, Charles Bukowski, Iain Banks, Hunter S. Thompson, and James Lee Burke. Prose, poetry, journalism, and essays all received attention. Drama seemed to be the only lacuna in Alastair's literary knowledge. The blog opened my eyes, as a 15 year old, to the joys of reading, and it has been a passion of mine since then.
The posts on music were no less varied, and from here, too, I have mined deep. Through the Heart Monitor I made my first acquaintance with the jazz, and reggae, genres.
In terms of sport, there was ample coverage of football and cricket. I was particularly fond of Alastair's dismissive nickname for Wayne Rooney, 'wee spud-face'.
It was not uncommon for Alastair to write about famous legal cases, and current controversies in the profession. These were done, as with almost as his pieces, with dry wit and alacrity, so that even laymen found them entertaining.
Before this starts to sound like hagiography, I will say that I didn't agree with Alastair on everything. He was a militant atheist, a devotee of Hitchens, Dawkins, and their ilk. He was also a conversation need Scottish nationalist. To his credit, he was always willing to engage in debate, and to do so charitably. It is one of my regrets that I never managed to broach the subject of religion. I think that were we able to debate now, we would have a most interesting discussion. Sadly, Alastair died of a heart attack in 2012. He had only just landed his dream job of becoming Procurator Fiscal for his home town, Campbelltown, when his health suddenly and dramatically deteriorated, forcing him into early retirement. Had he not had the heart attack, he would have died slowly and painfully from his terminal illness. Though he was not a man of faith, he bore his cross with very great dignity.
He is someone whom I will always admire, and if this blog could even be half as good as his was, I should be well pleased.
