One step closer, maybe?

Image from seaandbescene.com

Without a doubt, this day has been a mixed bag. So I was needful of some good news, and I got it: I’ll be a volunteer for this fall’s Celtic Colours festival in Cape Breton.

I’m more hyped up about this than I can tell you. I attended the 2012 Celtic Colours last fall, chronicled it here, and had one of the greatest experiences of my life. Wasn’t that a time, as they say. I knew then that I want somehow to be part of this. And it looks like I will be. So far I’m signed on to help at gigs in Port Hawkesbury and Wagmatcook, with more possibly to come.

Image from cbisland.com

Maybe this is, or maybe this isn’t, one big step closer to my goal. Feels like it could be. We shall see what we shall see. But, no matter, I get to be a part of Celtic Colours.


Great Scot! The Bob Marley of his time…

Image from The Vancouver Sun

From The Daily Mirror:

Robert Burns is believed to be the inspiration for many famous figures and celebrities throughout history. Abraham Lincoln had a lifelong admiration for the poet’s work, and some claim the poems helped him to win the American civil war and abolish slavery. Bob Dylan also claims Rabbie’s song “A Red, Red Rose” was his greatest source of creative inspiration. Michael Jackson was a huge fan of Robert Burns, and recorded an album with concert promoter David Gest setting the Bard’s poems to music.

From Wikipedia:

A Burns supper is a celebration of the life and poetry of the poet Robert Burns, author of many Scots poems. The suppers are normally held on or near the poet’s birthday, 25 January, sometimes also known as Robert Burns Day (or Robbie Burns Day) or Burns Night, although they may in principle be held at any time of the year.

Burns suppers may be formal or informal. Both typically include haggis (a traditional Scottish dish celebrated by Burns in “Address to a Haggis”), Scotch whisky, and the recitation of Burns’ poetry.

Ah yes, haggis. Just when you thought there was nothing worse a Scotsman could do to a sheep.

From Toad’s awesome blog To The Manner Born:

Americans hardly know and little care that today is Robert Burns Day (or Night), the anniversary of the birth of the Scottish poet and lyricist, the Bob Marley of his time, Robert Burns. We canna do the accent, and as long as 95% of us can make up the lyrics to “Auld Lang Syne” as we go and Scottish distillers remain in operation we are mostly OK giving Rabbie a miss.

On this side of the pond is a powerful fear of eating haggis, which is rather sad. True haggis is difficult to obtain. And in the US sheep lung, a key component, is considered unfit for human consumption. We canna import from the UK either.

We should know a bit about the Bard, if only to be neighborly. Rabbie took to poetry when he found it a good way to chat up birds, at which he became quite successful. His first book of verse was sold when he was 27 to raise funds so he could hightail it to Jamaica with his girlfriend, Mary Campbell. Burns hoped to escape the mother of his first daughter Elizabeth, and Miss Jean Armour who was pregnant with his twins.

Raise a glass tonight to Mr. Burns. He deserves to be remembered for his poetry, his storytelling, his love for and hopes for a republican Scotland, and his love of fine lasses. May his memory live forever.

And a part of his poem “John Barleycorn,” a tribute to one of his favorite pastimes:

John Barleycorn was a hero bold
Of noble enterprise;
For if you do but taste his blood
‘Twill make your courage rise.

‘Twill make a man forget his woe;
‘Twill heighten all his joy;
‘Twill make the widow’s heart to sing,
Tho’ the tear were in her eye.

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand;
And may his great posterity
Ne’er fail in old Scotland!


Happy Hogmanay to all

Last night in Edinburgh. Wish I could have been there!

And from a year ago:

 


Tossing the caber

Some cultures have sports where you carry balls. Other cultures have sports where you toss balls.

The Scots have a sport where you carry a tree and toss it. Hindered only by the incredible size of your balls.

That is all.


Happy St. Andrew’s Day

Image from twitter

Image from pbs.twimg.com

From the Daily Mirror:

The feast day of St Andrew, Scotland’s patron saint, falls on the 30th of November every year.

Saint Andrew and his brother Peter were fishermen called to be Jesus’s disciples. Andrew was eventually crucified, with a tradition growing up that the cross to which he was bound was an X-shape or Saltire, like the white cross on his flag.

Image from pbs.twimg.com

Image from pbs.twimg.com

Image from dailyrecord.co.uk

Image from dailyrecord.co.uk

Scots celebrate their national day on Twitter and other social networks, sharing pictures of their country’s beauty, symbols of national pride, and their own celebrations.

Image from Twitter

Image from pbs.twimg.com

Image from ihasahotdog.com

Image from ihasahotdog.com


Thanksgiving is over.

Image from absenceofalternatives.com

Time to end the moratorium on Christmas music.

Best Christmas Songs

Worst Christmas Songs

Sad/Lonely/Ambivalent Christmas Songs

Best New Year’s Eve/Hogmanay Song


Rockin’ the 902: Here’s what I did today instead of shop.

You read the blog entries… now see the show!

“Rockin’ the 902: The Movie.”

Coming soon: “Rockin’ the 902 II: Electric Boogaloo.”


Rockin’ the 902: “The Mountain Road” by The Outside Track

Song of the day.


Rockin’ the 902: Had the great pleasure of sitting at a table with these two tonight

And heard them sing and play for nearly four hours. With others, of course.

Rachel Davis is the best damn fiddle player I’ve heard in years. Check her out, I know you’ll agree.


Song of the night

“Mellow Doubt” by Teenage Fanclub. Can’t believe this song is seventeen years old.

It gives me pain, I think of you
The things together that we’ll never do
At first it’s cold and then it’s hot
Trying to be someone that I know I’m not

In trouble, I know it
I’m feeling,  I can’t show it
These feelings, don’t go away

I remember you, lines on your face
Sharing a moment in the perfect place
Deep in your eyes, inside your head
I try to reach you when I’m in my bed

In trouble, I know it
I’m feeling, I can’t show it
These feelings, don’t go away

There is no choice, what I must do
Nothing is greater than to be with you

In trouble, I know it
I’m feeling, I can’t show it
These feelings, don’t go away