by Jason Michael McCann Twitter @Jeggit
“As an Anglophile,” said Billy Connolly when asked about Brexit, “I’ve never shouted for Scottish independence, but I might be changing my mind now.” The Big Yin has broken my heart. I can’t presume to say he has broken our hearts. I can’t speak for anyone else. But his was the voice and face of a positive Scotland when I was wee, and, at a time in the 80s when there wasn’t always a great deal to be positive about in the west of Scotland – before Glasgow was miles better, the explosion that was Billy Connolly meant something.
No doubt to the endless frustration of our polite, middle class primary school teachers, we would disrupt the class with one of his jokes. “Do you even know what that filth is about boy?,” barked Mr Rowan, the headteacher. I did of course! There was a spider in his underpants – and, come on, that’s funny. Yeah, when my generation first encountered Billy we didn’t get the jokes. Not all the time. We sort of grew into them; turning red with embarrassment when the penny finally dropped. We couldn’t resist the funny man who bites your bum.