Doubtless to the relief of his long-time fans, Leonard Cohen's Edinburgh Castle gig passed off without the songwriting legend telling any knock, knock jokes. Indeed, he confined his between-song banter to a charitable observation about how, on a moderately chilly night al fresco, the audience should think of those unfortunates who regularly lack a roof above their heads. Coincidentally, a local homeless man was stationed near the cash-machine from which, after the gig, Leo Condie and his mum withdrew some money. The pair heard the unfortunate vagrant offering to give change to two women who had just been issued with £10 notes by the ATM.

As a proud Glaswegian, Leo couldn't help but feel that there was something of the grasping Edinburgh stereotype about the terms of the homeless man's fiscal offer: "Tell you what . . . if youse give me a tenner, I'll give you eight quid back."

Curtain-raiser
Elsewhere at the gig, Rennie Hunter, of Falkirk, overheard a declamatory conversation about Scottish pop history conducted in douce Morningside tones by two grey-haired natives of Auld Reekie. After a consideration of the relative achievements of the Poets, Writing on the Wall and Maggie Bell, Lulu earned one chap's praise for having been the first British female singer to appear live behind the Iron Curtain when she toured Poland in 1966. The other pop historian pondered briefly before replying: "A grim nation, cities defined by rows of faceless towerblocks, the grey skies, endless queues, the people's spirit crushed by decades of oppression . . . it must have been a relief for Lulu to get out of Glasgow."

Young blade?
Eagle-eyed readers Angus Johnston, of Houston, and Ian Lyell, fae Mauchline, hail the top cop who has been freshly tasked with devising England's national knife-crime strategy: Deputy Assistant Commissioner Alf Hitchcock. As Ian wonders: "Does he use Psycho as a training video?"

Divine retribution
Glasgow University's law school has booked Sheriff Irvine Smith as guest speaker at what it hopes will become an annual alumni dinner. Bill Thomson, of Bothwell, recalls being startled at just such a get-together when the one-time scourge of the underworld began his after-dinner address with the words: "You are all looking at the Messiah."

This was because whenever criminal recidivists entered the dock and sighted their old nemesis, they invariably gasped: "My God, it's you again!"

Warm welcome
On a visit to Iceland, Keddie Law, of Montrose picked up the usual freebie visitor's guide from the tourist office. "I hadn't been aware what a welcoming country Iceland is," he states.

One page provided a list of indispensable words and phrases, complete with Icelandic translations. Two of these caught Keddie's eye. The first was "I am a Viking." The second was "You are cute, what is your telephone number?"

Quaint queries
Questions from the home of the brave, continued. Now resident in Aviemore, Dorothy Haggerty gained first-hand experience of American tourists when she worked on the QE2. Their most common inquiry, she reports, was "Do these stairs go up?" followed by "What time is the midnight buffet?"

Slightly bluegrass
Country song titles, part 703. Joe Brown has long admired You Sent Me to The Self-Service Option At The Gas Station of Love, while BBC Scotland reporter Iain MacDonald recalls the late Hamish Imlach beginning a live lunchtime radio interview by telling an unsuspecting family audience the title of his favourite country song: Take Your Tongue Out Of My Mouth, Darling, I'm Kissing You Goodbye. "I know this," says Iain, "because I was that interviewer. We moved swiftly on."