How about a gig story or two

How about a gig story or two?

I was asked to be a surprise and play at a 50th wedding celebration in early June between 12:30 and 1 pm. I was given an address, which I looked up on my mapping program and arrived about 12:10pm (i.e., early) to scout out the location. Sure enough, there was a huge party in progress right on the corner. I drove about 3/4 mile away and tuned up. I drove back down to the party, parking behind a tree. Got out the pipes and I went inj ust as boldly as I could. They LOVED it. This was a great crowd. They were into it all, especially the jigs and reels. Try as I might, I couldn't find the guests of honor. Then I noticed that the address on the house WASN'T the one I was given. Yup, you guessed it! Wrong party. Still the high school grads all loved it and I wished them well as I scurried off the find the right address!!

I'm very fortunate in that I live near a National Cemetery that still does the burials with rifle volleys and all the ceremony. One of the absolutely coolest things I've ever done was to play at the funeral of a WWII Native American whose family came with their own traditions. I usually play at the beginning as the cortege arrives, and at the end of the service. As usual, at the very end I played Amazing Grace twice through. Partway through, a large drum was brought from under a blanket and several young men started playing on it. As I finished AG, they broke into song and kept singing for several minutes along with the drum. Toward the end of their performance, they looked at me and I understood that they knew about me, even though I didn't know about them. I brought up the pipes, they nodded and I played one last verse as they ended. It was such a neat service with so many traditions.

Wedding starting late is an occupational hazard and those of us doing the prelude have to do our part. This outdoor wedding had not had a rehearsal, so I didn't know exactly what was going to happen, so I played on. Well, after a delay of 45 minutes of playing in the summer heat, the bride finally arrived - which was just as well because my lips were about d-e-a-d. Finally, I could get a rest - which I n-e-e-d-e-d. I knew they wanted to be piped from the scenic overlook back to the main lodge and then to play some more to entertain. The entire service lasted about 90 seconds and caught me completely off guard when they introduced Mr. and Mrs.!! Somehow I piped them to the reception area and played for a few minutes more...

I live in a cold climate and am generally willing to play winter funerals. In late December, I was called by a funeral director to inquire if I was available just before Christmas. "Well, yes I can be, but please tell me about the expectations because there's supposed to be a blizzard that day." No, playing at the church wouldn't do. The family really wanted a piper to be at the graveside for their 92 yr. old grandpa. He was an Irishman, loved piping - and they had a special request. Could I play "Christmas in Killarney" after the graveside service? The picture was suddenly funny. Bing Crosby, Christmas carols, graveside, in a blizzard. It was everything you could hope for - and I've even got the photo to prove it!

I got a call for another winter memorial where the deceased was a retired fire chief. I don't mind "cold", but it was only about 5 F ( -15C) and really windy! I arrived and there were hundreds of public safety people from around the area. In the course of chatting with some of the EMTs and paramedics, the issue of what's under the kilt was jokingly brought up. I politely explained that the circumstances of the day had required a compromise between carrying forth in the highland tradition and being just plain stupid! A good laugh was had by all.

My wife (a highland dancer) and I were hired for a wake. Uncle Joe was 90 years old - and was to be the guest of honor. Upon the death of his sister, Uncle Joe had hired a piper for the wake and had commented that it was too bad that anyone should miss their own wake as it was so much fun. So his family agreed that if he made it to 90, the same age as his sister upon her passing, that they would throw the party. The family came in carrying the pine box with me piping in front. The set to box on a table, a cloth, glass candelabra and photos were set on top of the "foot" and then they opened up the lid on the other end of the box. The oldest son looked into the box and said a few kind words, reached into the box and took out a beer while making the toast about "being in heaven a'fore the dei'l knows you're daid". Everyone roared. There were 11 more toasts to finish off the 12 pack and then we "rocked" that party for about 45 minutes with piping, dancing and even a bit of singing. Uncle Joe had a blast as did everyone else.

At another wedding, the bridal party wasn't ready, so I piped until about 10 past the hour when the organist offered to fill in for a bit. I took a break and saw the pastor - not even in robes - and asked what was going on. We'll the bride had arrived only the day before and the dress wasn't right. Mother and daughter had been up all night fixing it and weren't done yet. I offered to spell the organist and did another 15 minutes or so. At about 40 past the hour, the organist gives me the "finger across the throat" sign and I stopped for an announcement that we'd all be going over to the parish house for a bit. So I piped them over and played off and on. At about T+90 minutes there was a rumor that the bride was on the way and at about T+110, I piped everyone back to the church. The wedding got going at about T+130 or so. At the end I piped them all back to the parish house and finished up with few more tunes... A few weeks later I saw the pastor and he referred to the service as "the wedding with the rather long prelude"!

I visited Edinburgh in 2000 and, upon leaving the Castle - having just had my photo taken in Captain John MacLellan's Memorial Bench - came across a fellow busking just down the street in a church square. He was obviously not a strong player and was rather out of tune. I chatted with him and offered to help at least get him into tune. After a few minutes of this, I realized that it was hopeless as he was a ridiculously weak player. I inquired about his piping background. He'd been playing for five years, and didn't have a teacher. (Stop and think about where he was!!) Then he said that "the public generally can't tell anyway" - and I lost it. I told him that he had no right to abuse the public with his lack of knowledge and skill and that, worse yet, he was dragging down the public's opinion of piping when there are those of us who work at it very hard to present the instrument and its music in as professional a manner as possible. I told him that should pack it up, go home, find an instructor and learn how to play before making a fool of himself and the instrument that many of us love. The best part was that my wife caught it on film!

One of the most moving funerals that I've ever played was for a young woman who was a dancer. The entire arts community came out for her memorial service, which was held in recital hall in the Arts Center of a local college. After many wonderful presentations including pieces that she'd choreographed, the stage was filled with theatrical "fog". I struck in - drones only for several seconds - and then came from backstage, through the fog, piping a lament. As I reached the edge of center stage, I faced the audience and played the opening phrase of "Amazing Grace". The emotional floodgates opened and, over my drones, I could hear the audience burst into tears. On the next phrase I turned left and on the next turned right. Each time the three notes brought forth a new flood of tears. I continued to play another verse on the stage and then continued to play as I disappeared into the fog, through the backstage, into the workshop and stopped. Even from there (about 100 feet off stage), the emotional impact was obvious. It's been several years now and I STILL get comments about that performance.

I consider myself very fortunate to have been able to play with the Kalamazoo Symphony. On short notice, I auditioned in the afternoon, got the part and was told that there was a rehearsal that evening. As a concert trained clarinet player, the opportunity to play a bagpipe with the symphony (read "group of legitimate musicians") was a BIG deal for me and I was very excited. I went back to work, finished up a project and got ready to leave, but couldn't find my security badge. So I called "security" to come let me out. They were nice about it, (I later found the badge in the bottom of a hanging file!) but I was now running a little late and had to hurry. So I drove over to the rehearsal center and decided that maybe I actually did have time to eat, but where was there a place to eat? Hmmm, how about that Sub shop? BOOOM!!! I'd hit the car in front of me. No one was hurt, but "OH $%^&, I'll be late for the rehearsal". The police came and did the report and gave me a ticket and I went on to the rehearsal with no dinner. But the evening wasn't done with me yet! I got there with minutes to spare and got out the pipe and got ready to make my entrance with the music. The entrance, by the way, was at the back of the auditorium, up two stories on the stairway. I was to play as I walked down the stairs onto the stage and join the orchestra. As the moment approached, I struck in and, to my horror, blew the chanter right out of the stock and sent it bouncing down the steps. The orchestra stopped, everyone stared and I was so-o-o embarrassed. Fortunately, the reed wasn't broken. OK, we'll try it again. This time I strike in, all is fine and I'm ready to go. At the moment that I hit the first note, they turned on the spotlights. Now remember that I'm up two stories on a stairway 40 yards from the orchestra, I can't hear the music because of my drones and I can't see because of the lights in my face! When I finally DID make it down to the stage, I got a nice round of applause from everyone there. While that rehearsal seemed a long evening, the actual performance was one of the most memorable 92 seconds of my life!

I played the 50th wedding anniversary for a wonderful couple. Several years later, sadly, I was asked to play the wife's memorial service. The family had several requests, which I gladly delivered. After Amazing Grace, I waited until the family touched the coffin as a final goodbye and played "Loch Lomond" - "me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie, bonnie banks...". I met the widower and expressed my condolences. He thanked me by smiling through his tears and turned to walk away. He made it about three paces, turned back, and in a quavering, choked voice asked simply "Scotland the Brave?". I piped the cortege from the cemetery to that tune.

Recently, I've begun to be a bit more open with my piobaireachd playing. At a funeral service, I was warming up with Lament for the Children and noticed a van drive in quite early and park near the gravesite. I continued to play and after several minutes the van drove over to me. I stopped and the woman expressed that she was there for the funeral, had never heard bagpipes in person before and was amazed at how beautiful and calming the music was. She wanted to know when/where my next concert would be so that she could bring her family and friends...

More later...