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Mind Numbing Keich!

I have been banished from the kitchen with my laptop as the kids have some friends in and they’re having some pizza. I normally stay clear of the living room on a Saturday night as the panoply of reality/game show/other shite on the telly is something to be avoided.

However the kids had left the TV on and I am currently exposed to something called “Let’s Dance for Sport Relief” which seems to combine the worlds of game shows, charity, celebrity and panel voting.

Christ!

No wonder the world is in the state it’s in when millions of people deliberately watch this kind of fucking tripe for entertainment.

I’ve just turned it off.

It’s brilliant.

When it stops.

Love That Burns

I attended my first ever Burns supper last night and thoroughly enjoyed it. I’d been asked to perform a song and chose Green Grow the Rashes O (performed here by Michael Marra -who seems to have a Frank Spencer thing going on)

I introduced a twist and with the aid of harmonica rack (I was also playing guitar) played a blues solo in the middle. It was pretty seamless as folk music and poetry is from the heart and evokes similar emotions the world over. Simple yet emotional. For instance think of My Love is Like a Red Red Rose, probably one of the finest love songs ever written. It is nearly all composed of one syllable words.
My performance seemed to go down pretty well and I got an invite to two more suppers for next year as a guest. Singing for my supper indeed.

I thoroughly enjoyed the other performers on the night – one of whom was an old music teacher of mine who I hadn’t seen for probably 35 years.

One recited the poem Willie Wastle

Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,
The spot they ca’d it Linkumdoddie.
Willie was a wabster guid
Could stown a clue wi onie body.
He had a wife was dour and din,
O, Tinkler Maidgie was her mither!
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.

She has an e’e (she has but ane),
The cat has twa the very colour,
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,
A clapper-toungue wad deave a miller;
A whiskin beard about her mou,
Her nose and chin they threaten ither:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.

She’s bow-hough’d, she’s hem-shin’d,
Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter;
She’s twisted right, she’s twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter;
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o that upon her shouther:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.

Auld baudrans by the ingle sits,
An wi her loof her face a-washin;
But Willie’s wife is nae sae trig,
She dights her frunzie wi a hushion;
Her walie nieves like midden-creels,
Her face wad fyle the Logan Water:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her

For a translation Go Here

Two further highlights were the Immortal memory (including this quote from Albert Pike: “What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal”) and a superb rendition of the following Robert Service poem, The Cremation of Sam McGhee. I’ve enjoyed this Youtube version for a while despite the guy’s resemblance to Jim Royle!

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