After enjoying the thrill of meeting Chief Miekelson, I have decided to change my name to ‘Whoever you are’. If it is good enough for the Chief, it is good enough for me. I tell him I am a huge fan of his.
“And I of you. Whoever you are.” he replies, with characteristic charm.
He has stood astride Scottish law enforcement like a Celtic Colossus for ten years. It is quite the achievement, and I ask if he has any advice for readers who might fancy having a go at Chiefing in any way.
“Never delegate.” he says. “I am the best at everything I do, so it makes sense that I do it. If you want something done properly then do it yourself. Unless it’s cleaning out the shower plug-hole in which case I get Jean to do it.” Emboldened by his willingness to share, I carry on and inadvertently transgress one of the the new unwritten/maybe a bit written rules in Scotland. Ten years on top, I say. He smiles. But – without wanting to appear critical – I ask if he feels that he has made enough progress towards making Scotland a Bam-free society ?
I know immediately that I have made a huge mistake.
“I am surprised and disappointed that you used the word bam.” he says grimly. “We now say the b-word in case one falls foul of the Hate Crime Bill.” I admit I have not heard of the Hate Crime Bill. “It is very clear and precise.” he says. “What is a hate crime? Depends. Who is responsible for it? Not sure. Will you be prosecuted for it? Mm, probably not.” This being my first offence in his presence, I am given a warning and we continue. Does he, I am eager to know, have plans for ridding Scotland of B-words completely ?
“Our plan is to round up all the B-words and house them in a purpose-built town called Bamsterdam.” he announces. “Or maybe Bamster Hailes.”
Of course, as well as B-words, the Big Man seemed, at least in part, responsible for ridding Scotland of Nicola Sturgeon. Surprisingly, he speaks fondly of her.
“Ah poor Nicola. I always got on well with her although she could be a wee bit front foot. A wee bit ‘fighting over the last fish supper in the Blue Lagoon on a Friday night’. I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation as its sub judice, but I can tell you what it’s not – they didn’t murder anyone. When the wee tent goes up outside the house you do think ‘hang on, it’s all getting a bit Fred West’, but no, the boys had a buffet and the tent was just to keep their sandwiches dry.”
The exciting news is that Chief Meikelson is here at the Fringe, and an hour of his time can be had for a very reasonable sum. Even more exciting, a Miekelson Calendar will be hitting the High Street in time for Christmas. Has he, I wonder, gazing at some of Scottish Constabulary’s ‘top brass’ displayed for January 2025, followed a strict regime to get into shape ? Yoghurt ? Protein shakes ? Porridge ? “I never eat porridge but I do bathe in it every morning,” he reveals.
And any advice for Fringe-goers this year ? “I have one piece of advice to festival goers.” says the great man. “It is never acceptable to sneak up behind a juggler or unicylist or fire-eater and shove them to the ground. Fun, but not acceptable.
Jack Docherty in the Chief – No Apologies, 20.00, Gilded Balloon, until August 15
