Commin Through the Rye January 24th 2025

 Tomorrow is Burns.  I know that doesn't mean anything to a whole lot of you, but in our house it is something.   It will be Robert Burns birthday, (And Jim Mckillop's too, Happy birthday Jim!)   Now we are McLeans.  That is to say we are the Scottish MacLeans rather than the Irish McLeans,  but upon our arrival to North America our illiterate ancestors had the immigration or clergy fill out the forms for them and it was just assumed we spelled our name like the Irish Catholic McLeans who came before them.  But so much for the history lesson.......  

Since I was a little kid Burns was something in our house.  My mom who was the real Scot ordered a Haggis and we ate it with tatties and neeps while Scottish country dance music and folk songs played on the stereo.  When I was in my forties, my sons and I joined a pipe band.  Burns was one of the big fund raisers for the pipe band in Swift Current Saskatchewan and every year we piped while the dancers danced to Scottish music.  We ate Haggis, and drank Scotch.  It was one of the toughest tickets to get in Swift Current in those days.  

In the 90's being Scottish became very cool.  A Canadian band, Spirit of the West started to introduce Celtic instruments and beats to rock music.  Braveheart, and Rob Roy were huge at the box office.  Mike Meyers incorporated a Canadian/Scottish accent into his comedy.    And believe it our not ladies and gentlemen,  Men in kilts garner an awful lot of attention from the fairer sex,  which in turn made the whole idea of being kilted up a lot more attractive to the local He-men.     

Every year my wife cooked about 70 lbs of Haggis for Burns night.   It was important enough to our family that my daughter came home from University every year for Christmas, Spring break, and Burns.  In later years, My grand daughter became a highland dancer.  A highly decorated one.  National silver medalist.  And although we had a few years of a little less Burns,  we returned to the festival because of her.  

We have kilted up some of our friends and family over the years.  Both my boys were married in kilts.  And my youngest son's best man who rented a kilt for the occasion  (He's a MacDonald) was pretty sure he should have his own.  His wife certainly didn't object.  My son in law wore his first kilt back in the Swift Current days.  He owns his own kit now and although there's quite a lot to work with there, he does look pretty outstanding.   Tonight my kids best friend who is first generation Canadian from Germany will be kilted up for the first time,  along with one of my grand sons who got his first kit a few weeks ago.  

I don't play the pipes anymore.  In fact it has been 25 years.  I was never very good at them.  I could do the standard pipe tunes for marching.  I could do a couple of laments.  I haven't had them out in many years.  Back in the 90's I went on a D Day tour with my dad, who was there for the show.  I took my pipes on that trip and had them out at several Canadian Cemeteries.  I played them in a couple of little Villages in Normandy where the locals were very polite and supportive.  But it has been too long and I am afraid my piping days, such as they were, are in the past.  

 I was on the board for the Highland Games for several years and I dawn my kilt for that day every spring.  Truth is, I like wearing the tartan.  It makes me feel like I have a special identity.   Like I am a member of a very exclusive club.  An exclusive club that is defined by how inclusive it is.  The Scots don't really speak.  They growl.  While the Irish accent is poetic, and soft and almost sing songy,  The Scots sounds are harsh with some rather horky sounds.  The Scots have survived in a cold damp land where what little they had was really owned by the English.   Scots come across like they spend their lives waiting for the other shoe to fall.

The Scot came to the new world,  or served in older worlds like India and other places in the British empire, with an adaptability fostered by years of difficult difficult circumstances usually not of their own making.  It was relatively easy for the Scot to understand the natives better than it was for those in charge of expansion.  Scottish settlers, and soldiers took many a native for a spouse and eventually the marriage of two souls became the marriage of two cultures.  Here in Canada it is not uncommon to find first nations people with names like MacDonald, MacKenzie, McLeod,  and of course MCLEAN.    The dances of the Metis along with the fiddling and drumming are a clever marriage of the music of the Scot and French settlers and their first nations hosts.  

Tomorrow we celebrate being Scottish.  But I like to think here in my home and native land we celebrate being new world Scottish.  Scottish in a new world where we have come to be good and honest neighbours with all around us.  Where here, in our new world Scottish kitchens you will see tatties, and mince, neeps and bangers, haggis and black pudding, along with perrogies and cabbage rolls, bannock and bison, tacos and chilli, french fires and gravy.   Where you hear country, rock, pop, and blues all played with a certain celtic flair.   And of course Scotch speaks all languages.  

We celebrate the neighbour who would watch your children, shovel your walk, mow your lawn, give you the shirt off his back, all the while sounding like he was somehow growling at you.  Generosity comes with being Scottish as it does with every culture that survived without.  Being in it together teaches you to share.    A lesson it appears we seem to be ignoring all too often these days.  

So HERE'S TA US, WHAT'S LIKE US?  DAMN FEW....AND THERE ALL DEED!  

Happy Burns.