WOW #27

Bagpipes

Today, we look at my Scottish heritage from the outside. The Word Of the Week is

Doodlesack

Doodlesack, a respelling of German Dudelsack “bagpipe,” literally “bagpipe sack,” is a rare word in English. The German word is, or seems to be, a derivative of dudeln “to tootle” (unless the verb is a derivative of the noun). Even in German Dudelsack appears not to be a native word but is likely to be a borrowing from a Slavic language, e.g., Polish and Czech dudy “bagpipe.” Doodlesack entered English in the mid-19th century.

I can’t blow my brains out.  I may huff and puff on my blog site, but the last time I could extinguish all the candles on my birthday cake, I was about 9 years old.  I love the soul-stirring skirl of the pipes, but I couldn’t inflate a set of bagpipes.  Even just picking one up is like wrestling a spastic squid.

Bagpipe music is not for everyone. Like kimchi, it’s an acquired taste that not all people acquire.  At a cultural festival in the park, when a piper stopped playing, a little old lady approached him and said, “If you stop squeezing that cat so hard, it will stop screeching.”

Click here if you’d like to see and hear AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck’ played on a set of flame throwing bagpipes.  A British couple got, what they thought were, really cheap tickets to a Red Hot Chilli Peppers concert.  They flew to Dublin to see a show by “The Red Hot Chilli Pipers“, a cover band that does all the Pepper tunes on bagpipes.

I read a Scottish adventure/mystery story one time, where the hero was a piper. He was practicing, standing on a rocky crag above a deep, fast, mountain river, when a sniper shot at him.  He tumbled into the raging waters and, although the shooter watched for a long, long time, he never surfaced…. until the next chapter.  Scottish pipers have lungs as big as their bagpipes.  He held his breath for almost 4 minutes.

My hometown had a well-established, and forgiving, Scottish Presbyterian Church. Shortly after World War II, a series of Scottish preachers immigrated to Canada.  Each would be placed in our town for a few years, until he’d learned the social ways and lost most of his Scottish burr, and then another would come out to replace him.

The Presbyterian Manse was directly across the street from my house. As a small boy, three ministers in a row brought their bagpipes with them.  On the upper floor, there was a double-wide, 40-foot-long hallway, with 10 foot ceilings.  When they had successfully composed the week’s sermon, each would celebrate by striding the hall while playing the bagpipes.

As soon as I would hear the first skirl, I would rush over, (I was allowed to) let myself in, and sit, out of the way, in absolute awe at the close-up sound of the pipes. Sadly now, the only time I seem to hear bagpipes, is at a funeral, if someone important dies.  ‘Amazing Grace’ is a lovely song, but I pine for ‘Scotland the Bra’e.’

Doodlesack indeed!!?  Making fun of my cultural music and instrument??!  That’s as bad as me making fun of rap music….no, wait, that’s justified.  Rap – so that Negroes with otherwise absolutely no talent, can make outrageous amounts of money.

Stop back again in a couple of days, when my rants aren’t quite so outrageous.

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Lawsuit

Five Golden Rings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 14, 2014

Dearest John,

I went to the door today and the postman delivered a Partridge in a Pear Tree.  What a thoroughly delightful gift!  I couldn’t have been more surprised.

With deepest love and affection
Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 15, 2014

Dearest John,

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift.  Just imagine – Two Turtle Doves.  I’m delighted at your very thoughtful gift.  They are just adorable.  You big silly, what next?

All my love
Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 16, 2014

Dear John,

Oh!  Aren’t you the extravagant one! Now I really must protest.  I don’t deserve such generosity – Three French Hens.  They are just darling, but I must protest, you’ve been too kind.

Love Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 17, 2014

Dear John,

Today the postman delivered Four Calling Birds.  Now, really, they’re beautiful, but don’t you think enough is enough?  You’re being far too romantic.

Affectionately
Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 18, 2014

Dearest John,

What a surprise!  Today the postman delivered Five Golden Rings; one for every finger.  You’re just impossible, but I love it.  Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love
Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 19, 2014

Dear John,

When I opened the door there were actually Six Geese A-Laying on my front steps.  So you’re back to the birds again, huh?  Those geese are huge.  Where will I ever keep them?  The neighbors are complaining, and I can’t sleep through the racket. Please stop.

Cordially
Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s body, OH

Dec. 20, 2014

John:

What’s with you and these fucking birds?  Seven Swans A-Swimming??  What kind of God-damned joke is this?  There’s bird shit all over the house, and they never stop with the racket.  I can’t sleep at night, and I’m a nervous wreck.  It’s not funny, so stop with the fucking birds.

Sincerely
Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 21, 2014

Okay Buster:

I think I prefer the birds.  What in Hell am I going to do with Eight Maids A-Milking?  It’s not enough with all those birds and the Maids, but they had to bring along their God-damned cows!  There’s shit all over the lawn, and I can’t move in my own house.  What are you doing to me?  Just lay off me, smart-ass!

 

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 22, 2014

Hey Shithead:

What are you?  Some kind of fucking sadist?  Now there’s Nine Pipers Piping.  And Christ, do they ever play!  They’ve never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning.  The cows are upset and they’re stepping all over those screeching birds.  What am I going to do?  The neighbors have started a petition to evict me.

You’ll Get Yours!
Honey

***

Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 23, 2014

You Rotten Prick:

Now there’s Ten Ladies Dancing.  I don’t know why they call these sluts Ladies.  They’ve been balling those Pipers all night long.  Now the cows can’t sleep, and they’ve got diarrhea.  My living room is a river of shit!  The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give reason why the house shouldn’t be condemned. I’m going to sic the police on you. One who means it!

Venomously
Honey

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Miss Honey Waste
Dog’s Body, OH

Dec. 24, 2014

Listen Fuckhead:

What’s with the Eleven Lords A-Leaping on those Maids and Ladies?  Some of those broads will never walk again.  Those Pipers ran through the Maids, and have been committing sodomy with the cows.  All twenty-three of the birds are dead.  They’ve been trampled to death in the orgy.  I hope you’re satisfied, you rotten, vicious swine.

Your sworn enemy
Honey

***

From The Legal Offices Of DEWEY, CHEATHAM and HOWE
Dog’s Anus, OH

Dec. 26, 2014

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of Twelve Fiddlers Fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, one Miss Honey Waste.  The destruction, of course, was total.

All correspondence should come to our attention.  If you should attempt to reach Miss Waste at the Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight.  With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

Cordially

I. M. A. Badger

Ping Pong

A post where you follow the rapidly bouncing little bright ball of my ADHD intellect, from subject to subject, to subject, sometimes alighting, sometimes flitting away like a butterfly.

I sent Madame Weebles a one-dollar, and a two-dollar Canadian coin, Loonie and Twoonie.  While she has other foreign coins, she had not obtained these.  She told me that she had a British Two-Pound coin.  It is bi-metal, similar to our Twoonie, only gold-colored on the outer ring, and a silver inner disc.  It’s a thick, heavy coin.  Instead of the edge being milled (grooved), it’s engraved with the Isaac Newton quotation, “Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants.”

I whined that I didn’t have one and protested how difficult it could be; yet admitting that one might be as close as a phone call to a local coin dealer.  We took the dog to PetSmart for a wash and trim, while we waited, I took the wife to the WalMart in the plaza down the street.  Since it was the day before my birthday, the wife offered to buy me lunch.  We used the multi-choice food court right beside WalMart.

We had been unable to obtain some coconut-oil pills for her at our nearby health food store.  As we sat eating, I spotted a National Nutrition store, just down the mall.  After I shoved in my last bite, I walked over and found that they had the pills for an even better price.

On my way back, I noticed a Currency Exchange outlet, so I ambled over and asked the clerk if they had any foreign coinage.  “Oh no!  No coins!”  That’s too bad; I wanted an English Two-Pound coin.  “Pounds??  We’ve got Pounds!” I walked back with a smile and my coin.  Thanx Weebs, for using the cattle prod to get me moving.

I posted earlier, that the son’s employer makes parts for a company which also is making parts for an up-coming moon-buggy.  Product items can be boring or interesting.  Aside from a new customer’s commercial egg-washing trays, he now also makes small quantities of strait-jacket keys.  These are ring-shaped, powerful, rare-earth magnets, molded into a plastic fob.  With no external hole, the locks are unpickable.  I’ve kept a key, just in case.

Something else he just made 450 of, was mouthpieces for bagpipes.  Since pipers need both hands to operate the pipes, the mouthpiece is clamped between the teeth, and wears and needs replacement regularly.  We don’t know how many sets of pipes there are in Canada, or how far afield these go, but that’s a year’s production.

As a non-religious person, I have no problem with the Quebec government’s attempts to remove religious symbols from display on persons employed by the government, particularly those whose duties include interaction with citizens.  This is not an attack on freedom!  While people have freedom of religion, others also have freedom from religion, when dealing with the government.  No religion requires someone to work in government, but most of us must deal with it regularly.  Why must I accept the presence of religious symbols, while accessing services from my secular government?

To suggest that government should only attempt to deal with one segment of religious symbolism, Muslim modesty garments, and not others, would mean a government would be prejudicial in its treatment of its employees, based on their religion.  That would be an attack on religious freedom.

Not that I’m saying that WordPress would lie to me….but, early the other day I, accessed my stats page.  WordPress claimed that I had had 4 visitors, for 19 views – 12 from South Africa, 2 from United States, 1 from United Kingdom, 1 from Namibia, 1 from Viet Nam, 1 from Thailand and 1 from the Netherlands.  7 different countries produced only 4 visitors??!  And, strangely, they were all for the same post, the comedy, Instant Philosophy Degree.

A couple of years ago, the wife caught a killer nasal virus infection.  When it finally abated, weeks later, she discovered that she, the great chef, had almost no smell or taste ability left.  I got a brevet promotion from busboy, to official taster.  “Does it taste rich?  Does it need more salt?”

After about a year, she got a referral to an Ear/Nose/Throat doctor.  By then, she had regained some, but he told her that any further improvement was unlikely.  She has sleep apnea.  Like many others, including BrainRants, she uses a CPAP machine at night.  Having some problems and concerns, she requested another referral to the same ENT.

He noted that she has a deviated septum, not badly, but added to other factors, it was causing problems.  He has booked her into surgery on September 30 for repair.  Instantly, the bureaucracy kicked in.  She has had to go to the hospital for a pre-surgery information session.  She had to take with her, all the medication she takes, including vitamins and “herbals,” in their original containers.  She has been told that she has to stop taking several of the herbals, and her heavy-duty pain pills, for a week before her surgery.

No “thought” is given to the directions.  She must drink four cups of cranberry juice the morning of surgery, before she arrives at the hospital, but she is not allowed to take her concentrated cranberry pills.  She must bring her CPAP machine with her but, because her face will be swollen, she will not be able to use it.

She must, again, bring all her pills in original containers but, those medications the hospital deigns to dispense, will be from their stock of generic, NovoPharm products that she is often allergic to, because they use milk sugar as a filler.  I have told her to bring her own stock of the allowable meds, take them, and throw theirs away, but she is a compulsive rule-follower.

A comedian told of having his ear wax flushed out.  On the way home he thought someone was following him, because he could hear his own footsteps.  A man I spoke to at the Free Thinkers had a bad nose fixed.  They packed it after surgery with gauze.  Two days later, when he went in to have it removed, he said it was like the magic trick with the handkerchiefs.  They pulled gauze out, and pulled gauze out – and pulled gauze out.

He said that, like the ear guy, for about an hour, the nose worked so well, he could smell what time it was.  Maybe the wife will get a bit more of what she lost, back.  We assume/hope that all will go well.  It’s a simple, routine procedure.  There’s no reason it shouldn’t.  I’ll keep you informed.

Confusion, Profusion, Collusion

The old man stared bemusedly out his windows, at the expanse of his lawns and gardens, vainly trying to remember just what all happened.  It looked like a massacre out there, the aftermath of The Battle of Agincourt.  Bodies and clothing were strewn everywhere.  There were food platters, and drink containers.  (sniff)  And was there still a whiff of that delightful herbal muscle relaxant in the air?

He vaguely recalled singing and dancing.  Well, he hadn’t sung and danced, he was far too regal and restrained to do that, but his guests had.  The revellers had revelled, and the troubadours had troubed, making sweet music.  Was that a lute on his lawn?  And over there, proud in its Stewart tartan, but looking bedraggled as only an unused one can, was a deflated set of bagpipes, the skirl of which still rang in his ears and in his soul.  It was lying beside a guy in a plaid skirt, with skinny white legs and knobby knees.  Had they let Erickson across the border?

He had sat on a raised dais, beatifically nodding his head and doing that foppish hand-wave thing that Queen Lizzy the Twoth had taught him.  Presents were presented to him.  Epic poems of his purity and honor were declaimed.  High praises of him were sung out far and wide, and a good time was had by all!  He had certainly had a good time, and he hoped – thought all his honored guests had too.

Some careless partiers had kicked away a few of the supports of his grumpy old curmudgeon facade, but he could quickly fix that, by putting up a couple of ranty posts.  All in all, his many talented friends had combined to give him a most pleasant and enjoyable day. Hell, if he thought he could swing another party like that next year, he might even agree to turn 70.

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A heartfelt thank you to one and all, for making yesterday a wonderful and memorable celebration.   😀