The Proper Use of Bagpipes
Who does not tear up when they hear ‘Amazing Grace’ played on Bagpipes? People without souls, and politicians, that’s who. The rest of us will have a stream of water down our cheeks when the music plays.
Like most things, bagpipes, not properly used, can hurt you. This close to St. Patrick’s Day, run-ins with bagpipes is impossible to avoid. How you run into them makes all the difference in the world.
Went out to dinner this past weekend, in part to celebrate my nephew’s birthday, and part because now we can go into restaurants without the hover of death in the air (literally). By the crowd in the dining room, you never have thought there was any threat of a virus. As we settled into our booth, the six of us, we waited for another nephew to join. The restaurant’s front door opened, and in stepped my nephew, right behind a man dressed in full uniform, bagpipe tucked neatly under his left arm.
The crowd cheered, not for my nephew who made his way to our table, but for the Bagpiper who moved to the center of the restaurant. He said a few words, then began to play.
A few things are best left outside a restaurant – a baseball game, drag racing, a tennis match.
Apparently, bagpipes should be added to the list.
When he began, a quick round of applause as he played snippets of favorite Irish songs. When he ended, another round of applause from the audience, who then turned back to continue their conversations and meals.
However, the bagpiper was not done. He began the montage again, but now he moved through the restaurant, weaved between the tables, bagpipe blared in the nearest patron’s ear. Slowly, he moved through the restaurant, pipes blared, the music, now more like screeches, invaded each table, and took no prisoners. As he continued, he headed our way. My back to the wall, I was somewhat safe. As he moved closer, my nephew opposite me straightened his back, pulled back his shoulders and had that “the killer is standing right behind me” look on his face.
And he was right.
For the next hour or so, between intermediate breaks, he wandered, unchecked, throughout the room. Finally, played his last tune, said goodbye, and left to a thunderous round of applauds.
Jump to the next day, went to see my friend Tammy’s band play at an outdoor venue. Cold, slightly overcast; at one point the band stopped playing. From the side of the bar, near the back entrance, the sound of bagpipes moved toward us. Within seconds, the piper entered and walked through the crowd. Stopping in front of the band, he turned, and played similar songs as the piper from the night before. Whereas those felt invasive, these notes were inviting. The air filled with music and, yes, I teared up when he played ‘Amazing Grace’.
And then there is this...
A friend of mine’s husband died in the World Trade Center attacks. At his memorial, where family and friends gathered to tell stories, and say prays for him. At the end, as we left the church, angelic music greeted us on the sidewalk. About a block away, just within sight, a bagpiper played ‘Amazing Grace’. The music was aloft, smooth and sweet, gave a chill and brought more than a tear to our eyes. It was ethereal.
And that, my friends, is how you play a bagpipe.
Photo by Jonathan Francisca on Unsplash
