Looking a gift horse in the mouth

O, wad some gift the powerful gie us, to free ourselves but we won’t free us. Alex Salmond, a First Minister, has been dishing out small gifts, as all top leaders must.

Mostly these presents pertain to golf and are, therefore, probably unwanted. We’re talking gewgaws here and tartan ties at £7.85 a throw, which is the cheapest I’ve heard for such attire.
I’ve never shopped for a tartan tie, mind you, and would not wear one if you paid me £7.85. Odd thing about tartan is that it only works on kilts. On a hat, waistcoat or, worse still, trousers it indicates the wearer has escaped his straitjacket.

The First Eck’s gifts have been revealed under FoI rules, which is like citing the Geneva Convention at the dentist’s.

The lieges will have been hoping for horrors: £1,000 of racy clothing to a stripper, £500 of plonk to a racehorse owner, a Hearts season ticket to a judge. No such luck.

There was, admittedly, a £35 boxed set of Burns to a singing spaceman. But even that wasn’t as bad as it sounds. Said spaceman was International Space Station commander Chris Hadfield, whose yodelling of top unionist David Bowie’s Space Oddity took place in zero gravity. Commander Hadfield also tweeted images of Scotland from up yonder and, for that, we remain eternally grateful.

What else was there? Well, the most expensive gift was a £120 pair of Malcolm Appleby cufflinks, presented to Ignacio Galan, chairman of Spanish energy firm Iberdrola. His wife got a Beggs scarf costing £63.20. But, then, it probably wasn’t tartan.

Most of the giveaways related to events like the Ryder Cup and Commonwealth Games. I think the ties related to the former, which my researchers tell me is some kind of golf orgy. My columnar colleague Henry McLeish, a former First Minister before he ascended the ladder to journalism, had one of the ties bunged at him.

I trust that Henry, being a man of good sense, gave it to a charity shop or, better still, took it out the back garden and burned it in a solemn ritual, which is what I would have done.

All in all, 354 gifts were distributed by the FM at a cost of £6,904 to yonder taxpayer. It’s a paltry amount in the great scheme of things. Indeed, it’s a paltry amount in the paltry scheme of things.

But you don’t get away with anything in public service these days. It’s a shame, really, as corruption and bribery get things done, and no amount of money will stop me from saying that. Wouldn’t do any harm to try me with a few bids, though.

After Eck has shuffled off to the back benches, Nicola Sturgeon will become official Heid Bummer of the Region of Scotland, the country having voted itself out of existence on 18 September.

I can’t imagine she’ll be any more generous with the largesse than the People’s Eck. At least the golf-related guff might stop, though I don’t know where she stands on tartan ties. On them, preferably.

Nicola, as far as I’m aware, has never shamed the nation by wearing tartan trews, but I suppose one’s gifts have to be Scotland-related in some way. A white feather, perhaps, or something in streaks of yellow.

Whisky is always good, unless the recipient is teetotal. And you can never go wrong with a toy Loch Ness monster, as long as it isn’t life-sized.

Much depends on the recipient, I guess. The Herald lists those who benefited from Eck’s generosity as “financial power brokers, ambassadors, academics, TV stars, caddies and taxi drivers”. Sounds like a police line-up to me.

I’m sure Nicola will find more deserving journalists — sorry, recipients — than that shower. I say ‘journalists’ but am being jocular. Seriously. Truly. Nothing frightens the honest hack more than the offer of a gift.

“Hell, no,” you tell a would-be donor. “That would leave me open to charges of being bought, of corruption, of a fondness for Loch Ness monster toys. Take it back immediately or I will summon a constable.”

Who else, then? Food bank organisers, spring to mind, but the louche nature of the gifts would probably seem insulting to those engaged in such serious business.

Footballers, perhaps. But what more do they need? Being thick, most of them were No voters anyway — at least the former ones from the older generation were — and so would preferably not feature on Nicola’s presents list, despite her reputation for generosity to opponents.

I suppose it just depends on whoever she runs into during her tenure in office. A florist here, a security guard there, perchance a favourite chef and, of course, persons of a foreign nature, who would kill for a wee cuddly Nessie toy.

Have we run out of any big events with which we might tie in gifts? With no referendum in the offing, there’s no crying need for the Establishment to plaster the place in Union Flags.

But, what the hey, there’ll always be an occasion for presents. As the Scottish national motto says: Nemo me impune lacessit. Translation: it’s nice tae be nice.