A wee problem for the Donald.

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Not since they erected a statue of Braveheart, William Wallace, in the likeness of Mel Gibson has there been such Hollywood hullabaloo in my native Scotland.

I'm talking about the international incident brewing over developer Donald Trump's plans to build not one, but two golf courses in the land where they invented the game. The latest headline-grabbing affront the Donald has allegedly pulled involves his use of an "illegal" Coat of Arms to promote his $1 billion development of two championship courses, a hotel and 1,500 luxury homes at the Menie Estate in a corner of Aberdeenshire on the north east coast of the country I still call home.

Trump's design, it appears, has fallen foul of a 360-year-old law that says he can't just up and create his own Coat of Arms without the explicit permission of the Court of the Lord Lyon.

Now, I'm as patriotic as the next Scot, but come on; isn't this pushing things a bit far? I mean, it's not as if the Donald has no trace of Scots blood in him (unlike our hero, Mel). The name Donald itself is one of the great Clan names of the nation and means "great chief." I reckon his mum, Mary, had high hopes for her boy when she named him. She was a MacLeod whose ancestry can be traced back to the Isle of Lewis where the mighty Clan Chiefs had their own Coat of Arms.

As a MacLeod, Trump and his ancestors are quite entitled to wear the Clansman's Crest that features a strap and buckle to indicate the wearer is not, in fact, the chief. Usurping the arms is viewed as socially and morally reprehensible, however.

Trump's design apparently features three lions and a fist holding an arrow, not quite subservient enough, according to the Lord Lyon, who's threatening to haul the developer into court and order him to cough up a $1,700 registration fee.

While $1,700 is a mere drop in a Scottish burn to the Donald, it seems this latest debacle has been enough for him to threaten to put the kibosh on the whole kit and caboodle and walk away from his mega-development. And to be honest, who could blame him?

Now don't get me wrong, I was as tickled as the first man when the Scots farmer holding on to a corner of the planned development site refused to give into the bully-boy from America who came chapping at his door offering fistfuls of cash and a job for life. But that David and Goliath fable has worn thin as I start to wonder at the motives of my fellow Scots who seem to have taken the fight for the little guy a little too far.

Since Trump first tabled his proposal, he's been accused of everything but high treason and the politicians there seem hell bent on having him hung, drawn and quartered, just like they did to Braveheart Mel.

Is it that this noble nation the size of the State of Maine doesn't need the jobs or the money Trump's golf resort would pump into the economy? Is it that the great game no longer enjoys the status of Scotland's other famous exports--oil, whisky and haggis? Or is it that these dour politicians just can't stand the thought of an American, nae, a famous American getting one up on them.

And are they mistaking the boardroom bully who tells his television show's Apprentice candidates 'You're fired' with a real person? While not everyone might be a fan of the NBC hit that's just been renewed for a seventh season, they can surely give credit where it's due. Trump is one of the world's most bankable builders who has created some of the most successful developments on the globe. One can't help but think Larry Silverstein wouldn't be having the trouble Trump has encountered since unveiling his plan to bring a golf mecca to the land of his ancestors.

Quite frankly, I think Hollywood has gone to the heads of the powers that be in Holyrood, the Palace where the current Scottish government sits mulling such heavyweight issues as whether to grant restaurateur Gordon Ramsay another liquor license or even whether to recast the statue that sits at the foot of Wallace's Monument as a giant, hairy, kilt-wearing rebel who showed Longshanks the door after a bloody battle in Stirling in 1297.

Fearing that I was biased after having spent the last 11 years of my life living here and reporting on real estate and some of its most prolific developers, I felt compelled to call home to get the skinny on the Donald straight from the horse's mouth.

My granny's an Aitchison who rightfully belongs to the Gordon Clan. Here's what she had to say on the subject:

"I think they should au haud their wheesht aboot that man. Folk are fed up with all the whinging aboot this. They should gie him his Coat of Arms and stop moanin'. Droon their sorrows in a dram, if they're so scunnered!"

Roughly translated, she said, "I think everyone should quiet down about Mr Trump and just give him his Coat of Arms. If they're so upset about it, have a whisky and they'll soon get over it.

"The folks who are upset the most probably aren't the ones who need the jobs or the houses this development is going to bring."

So my advice to the Great Chief Donald is hold on in there. Maybe one day, they'll even build a statue of you in memory of this great battle.