IT'S TIME TO SHOW A LITTLE BIT OF RESPECT FOR OUR ELDERLY

"I AM 80 years old and still independent and I live in my own home," said the wee lady I met last week in my street.

We had a good old gab and she told me how much the West End of Glasgow had changed in her lifetime.

It was a fascinating chat. She is a sparky old burd and I loved passing the time of day with her.

She is also very lucky, as not many elderly people get to remain in their own home. Some end up living in care, whether due to the state of their finances or health.

Many families have neither the space nor the resources to care for their elderly relatives.

The level of care in residential homes for the elderly has been under tighter scrutiny due to allegations and charges of neglect against staff and it seems that lower care levels are prevalent in Scotland.

The elderly are no longer valued in society as they were 50 years ago.

Families no longer live together with granny and we suffer as a result. Grannies and grandads are always a great source of information, help and are wonderful child carers.

My step-mum and my dad helped raise my daughter Ashley when she was younger, while I was busy running a bar, and she still cherishes their love and attention.

Nana taught her how to crotchet and grandpa gave her painting lessons.

I still call my step-mum if I need any health advice - some of her old-fashioned remedies have worked better than anything I have bought from the chemist.

The famous Broons cartoon is a great representation of how grandparents live and contribute to a family circle. Can you imagine the outrage if Grandpaw Broon had to be put in a home because Daphne couldn't be bothered sharing her home with an elderly relative who puffed on a pipe? Crivvens!

My very first job was working in a residential care home in Glasgow back in 1977. I never saw any abuse, but I did see many elderly folk very bored and stuck in chairs in front of a TV.

I loved talking to them. One wee man told me all about the times he worked a horse and cart throughout Glasgow when he was a milkman. Another had tales of the First World War. The women taught me how to sew and one gave me lessons on book-keeping that have come in handy to this day.

Crime against the elderly is one of the most heinous realities and often shocks the local community. Worse is when we realise that an old man has lain dead in his home for weeks and no-one even noticed. What does that say about us as a community?

It's a fact that some of today's elderly are scared to leave the house after 6pm.

Our society no longer values its older generation. Some elderly people don't speak to anyone for weeks on end; loneliness can lead to depression and emotional breakdowns. How hard can it be to say hello to an elderly neighbour?

Maybe we need to rethink the pensioners' role in our society?

Louise Casey, the Government's Respect Tsar, hopes to spearhead a campaign promoting politeness and public spiritedness in Britain.

Who better to learn good manners from than our elder generation?

Kids at school should be integrated with some of the local older elders, maybe at lunch time, and let them all have a chat and learn something from a generation who not only know history but have lived it.

Loads of kids no longer have contact with their grandparents and this would actually help and benefit both groups of people. The elderly would get out more and the younger generation would have great advice and stories from people who can still give something back to society.

Elderly people have so much experience, so much to give talk about and share and don't deserve to suffer hardships in the way some of them do under our current government.

The elderly are revered and loved in other cultures. Why not ours?

Many suffer by paying over the odds in council tax. This is a disgrace and a disservice to people who came through harder times, many of whom fought for this nation and worked hard to make the next generation have a better life.

I feel we have let them down badly.

One of the best suggestions I have heard to alleviate the issue comes from the Solidarity party in Scotland, who want to scrap council tax for pensioners and help them live better safer lives.

Tommy Sheridan told me: "It is a national disgrace that pensioners in this country struggle to heat their homes, with more elderly people dying of cold in Glasgow than in Moscow or Helsinki. Solidarity wants to end pensioner poverty by increasing the state pension to £160 per week and making pensioners exempt from council tax and water charges."

I think Grandpaw and Grandma Broon would heartily agree!

GLASTONBURY, KNICKERS AND NICKING...

AS YOU read this today, I will still be travelling back home to Glasgow from the wonderful mud lakes (and occasional blade of grass) of Glastonbury.

My daughter Ashley packed a huge case full of unsuitable clothing that included a very posh dress. What was she expecting to do? Wear silk with wellies and get a marriage proposal from an Arctic Monkey?

I, on the other hand, forgot the essentials - I went with only the pair of knickers I had on, so decided to wash them every day and leave them flapping in the wind to dry overnight.

Then the rains came...

I didn't give a hoot and ran about for a while going commando.

But the thing I could not cope with was that all Glastonbury cutlery was wooden. The good news was that I had an interview booked with BBC Radio and managed to steal some metal cutlery from their canteen. You can take the girl out of Glasgow...

THATCHER GOT RHYMES - BLAIR JUST A WAVE

"MARGARET Thatcher, milk snatcher! Squish her, squish her, throw her up and catch her!" So sang my four-year-old niece Abi last week, clapping her hands and stamping her feet. The anger is ingrained into working class families to this day.

I tried hard to invent a Tony Blair nursery rhyme but failed. (If only his name had been James Blunt.)

Last week, I spent the night in London. There was an amazing sight outside my flat, between the Houses of Parliament and the back entrance to MI5: police stopped traffic for ten minutes so Mr Blair and his diva-sized entourage could drive safely along the Westminster streets.

I tried to wave goodbye to him, but was so tired I only had the energy to lift two fingers. Unusually, he did not smile.