As I strode down Coates Gardens heading towards my local store to purchase a pint of cow juice, Bob Geldof suddenly appeared getting off a bus.
I would have loved to report that I said something witty to him, prompting him to smile and give me a couple of high 5s before heading off...
Unfortunately, I was so surprised to see him, I just gawped, and before I knew it he was surrounded by a media scrum shouting questions at him.
Then a massive squadron of buses appeared and loads of people who'd bussed it up from down south alighted onto the streets of Edinburgh.
They were all kids about 17-18ish and seemed very good natured and excited about arriving for the Live8 doo-dah.
At night I had a game of golf with Mr Colin Crabbie and Mr Mark Dance upon the hallowed turf of Dalmeny Golf Course. After a fairly sodden day it turned into a beautiful sunny evening. There was not a breath of wind and the River Forth glinted in the sunlight.
On such an idyllic evening, it seemed unimportant who actually won the match, as it was really just all about the pleasure of taking part. But it was me. I won. Fairly comprehensively. No triumphalism from me though. That would be wrong (again).
Back home in time to marvel at a 76 year old dancing about onstage with a couple of bikini clad stunnas!
No, it wasn't David Bann, it was James Brown of course...!
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