Musings from the Merse
Friday, October 17, 2008
Ex Africa Semper aliquid novi?
Coming back, as one does, musing about the credit crunch and Private Medicine, in an Embra taxi, Huttonian kept half an eye open for the Doyen of the Mendicant Corps of Princes Street and his wee dog, and both ears tuned in in the general direction of the Mendicant Piper. Then just where the D of the MC usually has his pitch I came across a new comer to the play and spare some change scene. An African drummer*, or so it seemed, in full beat-the image is taken from the cab, so apologies for quality. As far as I could see, en passant, his 'begging bowl' was well specied. And so powerful was his sound the mendicant piper had been driven from his usual perch and no sign of any other competition for the generosity of the few remaining Japanese tourists
* I am no expert on exotic music. The chap concerned may well hail from other foreign parts but the rythym was certainly 'African' And of course, given the multi ethnicity of the Borders he may well have been a Pail Merk.
Coming back, as one does, musing about the credit crunch and Private Medicine, in an Embra taxi, Huttonian kept half an eye open for the Doyen of the Mendicant Corps of Princes Street and his wee dog, and both ears tuned in in the general direction of the Mendicant Piper. Then just where the D of the MC usually has his pitch I came across a new comer to the play and spare some change scene. An African drummer*, or so it seemed, in full beat-the image is taken from the cab, so apologies for quality. As far as I could see, en passant, his 'begging bowl' was well specied. And so powerful was his sound the mendicant piper had been driven from his usual perch and no sign of any other competition for the generosity of the few remaining Japanese tourists
* I am no expert on exotic music. The chap concerned may well hail from other foreign parts but the rythym was certainly 'African' And of course, given the multi ethnicity of the Borders he may well have been a Pail Merk.
Labels: Embra, Mendicant Pipers, Pail Merks
Saturday, September 29, 2007
For the only time in 10 plus years I heard the pipes in Ber-Wick this morning. For a second I thought I had been beamed up to Embra, but no, there he was, parading from Boots, via Thornton's Chocs towards the old town hall where there was a food (not Scottish as it happens) festival in full swing. The image from Flickr (thankyou Orin Optiglot) does him some justice although he had no moustache. Nor did he have an offertory dish, but this did not prevent a sweet elderly Scottish expat lady ( I am making three assumptions here), overcome with patriotic emotion, from thrusting money into his hand during a short break in the performance.
Smiling, and with a tiny bob(no pun intended) he handed the specie back and said something I did not quite catch. Was it : 'Thankyou but I am not a mendicant piper unlike that disgrace to the Kilterhood in Princes Street' or, just possibly in these times of some inflation and collapsing house prices;
'Sorry. It's not enough. Missus
(Or putting it more traditionally : I am sending you hame
Tae think again)
3
Smiling, and with a tiny bob(no pun intended) he handed the specie back and said something I did not quite catch. Was it : 'Thankyou but I am not a mendicant piper unlike that disgrace to the Kilterhood in Princes Street' or, just possibly in these times of some inflation and collapsing house prices;
'Sorry. It's not enough. Missus
(Or putting it more traditionally : I am sending you hame
Tae think again)
3
Labels: Berwick, Mendicant Pipers
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Scots Make hae.
Even with about two weeks to the Festival, Embra is already heaving with humanity. And the town is already in full Professional Scot mode-souvenir tat shops and instant Kilteries crammed with mostly American back packers and continental yuff and general purpose middle aged looking for the Bernstein, Dubois and Metternich tartans-can do Sir if you come back in an hour; in the meanwhile how about a ceremonial Claymore-genuine late twentieth century. Buy one Nessie get two at 2.5% discount. Or the Genuine Scottish Joke Book-slim enough for your wallet and full of tartanned up Irish Jokes-now no longer appropriate or funny in the blossoming Celtic Tiger Hibernian community.
In the midst of all this international commerce and frenetic sightseeing the mendicant pipers are at full strength-no less than three from the Fleshmarket Steps to the Old University and impossible to stay out of sound for long. Young tourists are not good payers-happy shots with their cell phones and then move on when the music stops and the Tam 0' Shanter comes around. The most generous givers are the new class of visiting sub-continental who are visibly impressed with what Ould Reekie has to offer and exclaim 'well played sir' as the lament dies on the wind and shower the begging bowl with much specie. Ould Reekie has made an impression-I overheard one Indian visitor say loudly to his wife' So like the Old Country and I can honestly say, my dear, that St Giles Cathedral is the answer to our dear Taj Mahal.' So what Mc Tavishes' Genuine Scottish Souvenir Emporium, over crowded, over heated and over priced is the answer to, one shudders to think.
The Black Hole of Calcutta, perhaps?
NB The piper portrayed above was not one of the mendicants mentioned above but borrowed from flickr. Possibly photographed in Oz
Labels: Embra, Mendicant Pipers
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
'So you are Huttonian' the Piper said. 'We meet at last' There was something menacing in his tone which sent shivers down my back. His eyes were narrowed, his Sporran bristled (it looked look covered with pubic hair to my untutored eye) aggressively. I looked down to his violin case usually illiberally sprinkled with 5 p pieces and the odd pound coin that he had put there suggestively. No coins: just a shiny, sharp, gleaming edged Claymore-straight from Brave Heart, via the Simply Scottish Souvenir Shoppe. Its handle was towards its owner. I turned to edge away-a growl sent a further shiver down my spine: there was the wee dog and its mendicant master blocking my retreat. It was not so wee close up, filling its combat jacket, a bit of something-it looked like human skin, protruding through its upper fangs. ' Give Beggars a bad name, he does' said the mendicant- '****ing Blog. What does he know about us..slaving away.honest living' 'Too right. No taste for proper music, ****ing tone deaf Sassanach'said the Piper' He needs to mend his manners'
I looked for escape. Not a chance. We were hemmed in by Oriental tourists. Cell phone cameras at the ready eager to record a bit of genuine traditional Scottish happy slapping; much more fun than even live Origami, any day.
The wee dog growled louder, the Mendicant reached into his pocket, a gleam of metal, and the Piper's hand closed around the handle of the Claymore.
'Wake up' said the wife as she brought in my tea. Early start-you have an appointment in Embra. I struggled awake and counted my limbs.
I avoided Princes Street this morning.Coming and going. And bought
two copies of the Big Issue.
Pathetic, isn't it.
I looked for escape. Not a chance. We were hemmed in by Oriental tourists. Cell phone cameras at the ready eager to record a bit of genuine traditional Scottish happy slapping; much more fun than even live Origami, any day.
The wee dog growled louder, the Mendicant reached into his pocket, a gleam of metal, and the Piper's hand closed around the handle of the Claymore.
'Wake up' said the wife as she brought in my tea. Early start-you have an appointment in Embra. I struggled awake and counted my limbs.
I avoided Princes Street this morning.Coming and going. And bought
two copies of the Big Issue.
Pathetic, isn't it.
Labels: Embra, Mendicant Pipers
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
This is borrowed from Flickr -thank you G w Clark. He is not the Princes Street Mendicant although I am concerned by the presence of a wee dog-see previous posts.
As GNER was leaving Waverley Street Station yesterday afternoon I had a glimpse of a piper ( a Major at least) in full regalia in the car park-staring fixedly ahead. Perhaps he could not remember where he had left his car. I did not recognise his tartan-certainly not MacDonald's or indeed Liitle Chef.
He had no pipes. Smoking is now entirely banned throughout the precincts of WSS. Perhaps the same applies to the skirl of the pipes?
Noise Abatement Act (Cap.6 Holyrood 2007)
Or : 'Committing a nuisance in a Public Place. ASB Control Orders.Piper Exclusion Zones (Cap 786. Holyrood 2006)
Or possibly he wasn't a Pipe Major-just the formidable Doorman from the Waverley Hotel. ( A Surrey man I believe-it could have been the Leatherhead plaid)
04)
Yes it's wonderful what you can see from the train!
Oh Fat Pipe Major whom nobody loves
Why do you head for your car in gloves?
Humming a tune, oh Heavens Above
I have forgotten my pipes, I am losing my touch
Why do you head for your car in gloves?
Missing so much and so much?
?
Contrite apologies to Frances Cornford
As GNER was leaving Waverley Street Station yesterday afternoon I had a glimpse of a piper ( a Major at least) in full regalia in the car park-staring fixedly ahead. Perhaps he could not remember where he had left his car. I did not recognise his tartan-certainly not MacDonald's or indeed Liitle Chef.
He had no pipes. Smoking is now entirely banned throughout the precincts of WSS. Perhaps the same applies to the skirl of the pipes?
Noise Abatement Act (Cap.6 Holyrood 2007)
Or : 'Committing a nuisance in a Public Place. ASB Control Orders.Piper Exclusion Zones (Cap 786. Holyrood 2006)
Or possibly he wasn't a Pipe Major-just the formidable Doorman from the Waverley Hotel. ( A Surrey man I believe-it could have been the Leatherhead plaid)
04)
Yes it's wonderful what you can see from the train!
Oh Fat Pipe Major whom nobody loves
Why do you head for your car in gloves?
Humming a tune, oh Heavens Above
I have forgotten my pipes, I am losing my touch
Why do you head for your car in gloves?
Missing so much and so much?
?
Contrite apologies to Frances Cornford
Labels: Beggar and wee dog, Mendicant Pipers
