Brigadoonery Canada
Brigadoonery Grab-Bag
Contributions welcome!
What
could be better than FREE ? Here's a chance for fellow Brigadoonians to achieve
everlasting fame on the world wide web (well, temporary notoriety at least!) at
no financial cost to themselves!
Have you ever seen -- or better still, been involved in -- a piece of ridiculous Brigadoonery that would bring the blush of embarrassment to the face of a genuine Scotsman or woman? Have you seen some pseudoScotticism that was downright silly during your travels? Admit it: have you ever participated in that strictly American event, "kirking the tartan" – a strange ritual completely unknown in Scotland?
Send us your crazy stories, jokes and pictures – and provided they're fit to print, we'll publish 'em right here on this page. No diatribes about foreign (i.e. Scottish) politics, please! This is a Canadian web site!
Email your
contributions to Neil Harding McAlister, alias The Second Laird of Tomintoul,
and The URL of Port Perry. The address is: neilmac@durham.net
Jock Ferguson, who describes himself as a “grumpy middle-aged actor,” warns that a Scottish thespian’s life is not all beer and skittles …
Working, as I occasionally do, as a living history
character, I meet people from many nations. For ten years I portrayed
Sir William Wallace at the National Wallace Monument in Stirling.
Being far too old for this by then, I decamped to Scone Palace to play Robert Bruce. This was indeed a promotion -- with a pay rise to boot.
The daftest questions always come from Americans, but I try to stay polite as befits one of the terms of my contract.
It is not Brigadoon that is the problem, it is Braveheart, that double-edged sword that brought me employment in subsidiary industries, but cumbered me with idiocy for the ensuing twelve years. Type my name into a search engine and there is a myriad of associations with WW. Hardly surprising since I portrayed him (and directed) in the programme William Wallace - The True Story. The tenets of film stay true to history, but it is the other aspects that have arrived to niggle. As an actor, I have no problems with 'dramatisation'. But the public do!
Most bizarre of the bunch (from an American) was a Southern Belle looking up at the impressive Gothic pile that is the Monument and asking me, 'Was this put up to commemorate Rob Roy?'
'Yes', I replied nonplussed, 'Yes it was.'
These past two years I have been ensconced on the Stone of Scone as Bruce. You can see me on Youtube at;
Pro Libertas
I interact with visitors and pose for a thousand photos a day, perform snippets of previous films for video cameras and knight little boys and confer ladyships on the girls. But Braveheart comes to Scone too with the downside of my character having been portrayed as a weak, ineffectual young man and the son of a leper. Hollywood shite!
After twelve years a single question was the straw that broke the camel's back.
“I wanna ask you something,” she drawled, making sure everyone else could hear the incisive enquiry about to befall me, “Why did you betray William Wallace?”
I took off my crown, threw away my sword and walked. After gaining a considerable distance I realized I would have to return; but it would take some tact to retrieve the situation which had clearly created something of an atmosphere.
But I couldn't summon up anything and instead told her, “I want you to promise me you will never watch that film again.”
For the next ten minutes I delivered a bad-tempered monologue about how Hollywood is not history, and that anyone believing Braveheart to be a historical tract should be pitied.
The next most stupid people are English, who also use over-loud voices to ask daft questions, and who bring their non-infectious brand of “humour” to ruin my day. I talk about their three lions on their royal standard, the famous Three Lions On The Shirt as fondly sung by their oafish football fans. It is pointed out that their lions are passant, lying down, supine. Then I draw attention to the single lion on MY royal tabard: rampant, angry, unforgiving. Still want to goad me? They generally walk away muttering something about “no sense of humour,” or at least have the good sense not to say any more.
Fortunately, most people are very friendly and appreciative of everything I do. There are mails with photos from all over the world arriving here after these events and some of them ask more about Scottish history and culture.
I always reply to e-mail and stay in touch as long as people want.
The season is over now and I return to corporate entertainment and DVD, not necessarily being Scottish in tone.
But already I have a bag load of historic jobs next year, including a stint as a Jacobite soldier at Scone and also a Pictish farmer character. I wonder what exasperations these will bring?
Hilderic Browne forwards this interesting snippet from The Telegraph about our favorite Scottish poet …
Row over honor for “worst” poet
By Auslan Cramb, Scottish Correspondent
Last Updated: 7:00am GMT 13/11/2006
Plans to give one of the world's worst poets a place in a writers' hall of fame were branded "cultural idiocy" yesterday.
William Topaz McGonagall (1825-1902), the famously bad poet and tragedian from Dundee, may soon be honoured alongside literary giants such as Robert Burns, Robert Louis Stevenson and Sir Walter Scott. The Writers' Museum in Edinburgh is considering adding his name to the memorial paving slabs in the city's Makars' Court in recognition of the continuing fascination with his appalling poetry.
Billy Connolly is a fan of the Victorian bard, and the late Spike Milligan was also an aficionado.
Elaine Greig, the museum's curator, said: "Love him or hate him, William McGonagall is a great character in Scottish writing whose appeal has stood the test of time. There has been strong support for the idea of McGonagall getting a place."
But Gerard Carruthers, a lecturer on Scottish literature at Glasgow University, said his work was "puerile Scottish kitsch".
He added: "There are a hundred or more candidates worthier than McGonagall. If this goes ahead, we would be as well running up the flag of Scottish literary surrender."
He suggested that the museum should honour instead the late Dame Muriel Spark, as the "most successful Scottish writer of the 20th century".
Toddish McWong (of the Vancouverish McWongs of that ilk) sends heartwarming news from British Columbia, Canada, concerning his indefatigable efforts to promote Chinese-Canadian Brigadoonery!
I confess to shades of Brigadoonery, and will send you my fine examples of misappropriating Scottish culture. I will also confess to helping to reinforce and simultaneously flip stereotypes of both Scottish and Chinese peoples. CBC TV in BC created a half hour musical variety show titled "Gung Haggis Fat Choy" based on my annual Vancouver dinner. Please visit my website: http://www.gunghaggisfatchoy.com
------------------------------------------
Here's the Canadian Press story that got circulated around the world!
Chinese don kilts, Scots try haggis wonton at Gung Haggis Fat Choy dinner. By AMY CARMICHAEL
VANCOUVER (CP) - Chinese men don kilts and Scots tuck into haggis wonton in a multi-culti Chinese New Year party for Robbie Burns that began as a gag get-together among university friends and spread like an endless egg
noodle. More than 500 culture vultures in Vancouver have snapped up tickets for the festivities Saturday and Sunday to celebrate the Scottish bard whose day falls at the dawn of the Chinese New Year. Chicken feet, haggis, anything goes at the 12-course fusion feast.
"This is what Canadian society is all about, introducing each other to our cultures and celebrating more holidays," said organizer Todd Wong....
Lynda Byrd of Springfield, Ohio, U.S.A., writes:
I came across your site when I was looking for examples to show my soon-to-be daughter-in-law what Scottish men wore to weddings. (My son wishes to be all decked out in his finery for the event of a lifetime - love that boy!)
Anyway, I have a little story about him that may give you a chuckle - or at least a shake of the head in amazement.
James, my son, got a summer job at a local Renaissance Fair and, of course, wore his kilt along with a charming deerhide waistcoat and the rest of the period outfit. One of the other fair participants came over to him one day and, with a lift of his arrogant head and a sniff down his nose at James, declared that men did NOT wear dresses! Especially one that had so much material - meaning the pleats, I suppose. Just why was James dressed that way?
My son, with an upraised brow (By the way, he was sixteen at the time) smiled patiently at the miss-informed mundane, and said his outfit was well researched since we'd been attending such events for years and that our house was filled with books on the subject of Scottish history.
The man stared back at James, chuckled smugly and said, "You read too much."
Um, okay?
Chris Brosseau of Peterborough, Ontario, Canada warns of the perils of Scottish hotels …
Don’t Take a Shower (for granted)
Taking a long hot shower in the morning is something we take for granted in our lavish North American lifestyle. When travelling in Scotland, however, it is one luxury that we cannot presuppose.
My wife and I were staying at this charming hotel on the Isle of Skye on the West Coast of Scotland. The hotel was built long before showers were the norm for getting washed. The bathtub in the hotel room was big enough for pairs synchronized swimming, great for having a bath or a wee swim, but difficult to get washed in.
In the tub, there were two separate taps – hot and cold. The hot was so hot you could make coffee directly out of the tap and the cold was like ice water. To solve this problem, someone invented a portable shower. It is as if they were trying to match 19th Century plumbing with a 20th Century phenomenon.
I called it the shower snake. It is like a large doctor’s stethoscope with two plugs for each tap coming together into a hose with a showerhead attached. Now this helps (once you get the water temperature right) but it is still awkward. Taking a shower sitting down is not the easiest thing to do. You still have to put water in the tub to avoid freezing your buttocks against the ice-cold tub. Then you need a third hand, one to hold the shower snake, that writhes all over the place as soon as you let it go, and two more to get washed. If you set the snake down, it always faces upward spewing water all over the walls and floor.
My Scottish wife said the secret is to wet – soap up –and rinse. The wetting was no problem – but where do you put the shower snake when soaping up? She suggested holding it with your feet. Well, the rubber hose is deceptive. Inside is a metal heat conductor – holding it was like holding a red-hot branding iron. I quickly let it go and let the snake do what it wanted until I was ready to rinse. After much experimentation I learned to hold the elusive nozzle with one hand and wash with the other – until you drop the soap, however, then you have to fish around for it, with the shower snake gushing forth all over. I finally managed to tame the beast and rinse off.
The next day I decided to forget the shower and take a bath. Not so simple. With two taps, you have to continually adjust the temperature and swirl the water around to even out the extreme hot and cold. You find yourself passing your hands through both streams of water, trying to mix the water all at once. All you end up doing is cooling your scalds or burning your frozen fingers with water splashing all about. At one point I was standing like a ballerina with one leg high in the air behind me because the water was so hot I was scalding my feet. I soon gave up, dried off, slipped into my tiny one size fits all terry cloth robe that came with the room, and got ready for breakfast.
When it was time to leave this lovely hotel, I took one last peek into the bathroom and said my good byes to the shower snake. There it sat, lifeless, coiled and ready for action as soon as water brought it back to life for some unsuspecting North American tourist.
Rev. Donovan Browne, Ontario Canada, sends us this sad story. A man of the cloth would never lie, would he?
A man left his bagpipes in the back seat of his car with the window rolled down. After leaving his vehicle and walking only a few blocks, he suddenly realized his mistake and hurried back - but it was too late! Someone had ALREADY left another set of bagpipes next to the first.
Peter McFarlane, from Scotland, pokes some fraternal fun at his Brigadoonian brother ...
Here is a piece of genuine Brigadoonery perpetrated by a Scot who is old enough to know better. It's no wonder that Scots abroad get confused!
My brother, who is a Professor of subsea engineering at a Scottish university, despite the fact that my father, and his father before him etc. and me , and my brother and mother spell our name "McF," insists on spelling his name "Macf". In the Gaelic it would be neither -- and he doesn't speak Gaelic anyway. Surely a name is a name is a name. He also spent several years in Korea working, and bought full Highland Dress before he went. I have never seen him wear it here [i.e. in Scotland] properly or improperly! We love him anyway.
HAGGIS DISCRIMINATION !
Todd Wilkinson (Commissioner, Scottish Colonial Tartan Police) sends this alarming bit of intelligence:
While surfing the 'net for Burns Nicht sources, I discovered a wonderful little page with nothing but Haggis receipes, and also, a very distrubing fact:
"Note to U.S. residents: The United States government has determined that sheep lungs are unfit for human consumption. It is therefore illegal to import most haggisses into the U.S."
This smacks of ethnic discrimination against Scottish and Ulster-Scottish Americans, methinks. Or have I finally found a valid reason to try for political asylum in one of the nations of the British Commonwealth? Or does the park ranger have too much bl**dy time on his hands during the off-season (please don't answer, I already know it--sob, sob!)
Anyway, here's the URL for the "all haggis" web-site:
http://www.smart.net/~tak/haggis.html
Enjoy!
ZUT ALORS!
"OLD BONEY" WAS A SCOTSMAN !
Hilderic Browne of Ottawa, Canada send this news clipping of a world-shaking historical discovery!
Napoleon was one of us, says Scottish archive: By Richard Savill
THE family of Napoleon Bonaparte may have come from a tiny Scottish community, according to new research. Evidence that his grandfather came from Balloch, near Crieff, Perthshire, has been uncovered by a local historian, Robert Torrens.
Mr Torrens
has now embarked on a detailed investigation to try to prove a link between the
French emperor and an 18th century labourer, William Bayne. He believes that
Napoleon's grandfather may have been a soldier. Mr Torrens stumbled across the
link in a dusty book called Crieff: Its Traditions and Characters.
He said: "The book dates from 1881 and carries a story claiming that Napoleon was really a third generation Scot. The archive "was highly thought of at the time and the story was vouched for by some respected figures."
Mr Torrens said that, according to the book, a labourer named Bayne and his family decided to leave Balloch shortly after the collapse of the 1745 Jacobite uprising.
It says: "Having had a strong leaning to the Duke of Perth and Prince Charlie after '45, Bayne resolved to seek a home in another land. With this intent he and his family and others set sail. A storm came on and they were driven on to Corsica, where they were hospitably received. They were known as Bayne or Buon and his party. In course of time his sons were called Buon-de-party.
"His grandson was named Buon-de-parte or Buonaparte and now figures in the history of the world as the great Napoleon."
Mr Torrens said that no descendants of the Baynes were left in Balloch, so the archive's claims were difficult to verify.
He said: "It is an intriguing story and it would be nice if it could be marked in the village in some way."
Perthshire Tourist Board said it was keen to adopt Napoleon as part of the area's historical attraction if the claim could be substantiated.
More gung haggis fat choy? Here is Webmaster Neil (in the kilt, wearing seriously inappropriate day wear stockings ::blush:: ) and his two good friends John and Alice at the annual meeting of the Scottish-Chinese-Canadian Club, held in Toronto, Ontario. The SCCC is a non-profit organization dedicated the promulgation of Brigadoonery and Chinese cuisine. As you are probably aware, Sweet and Sour Haggis is the club's most famous culinary creation.
Sherlock E. MacMartin suspects, with regards to the above item,
Being a very very genuine Brigadooner myself, I really appreciated your page, especially the Canada-Chineese-Scottish society wich I think is great for promoting friendship amongst all earth's people (besides promoting scottish highlandwear to the Chinese in an effort to Scottishise them as successfully as they were Americanized. I know you're doing all this because you're actually Hector-Russel's main marketing strategy in trying to expand their market to the whole of China!)
Richard, who probably has good reason to keep his family name a secret, comments,
With regard to HIGHLAND DRESS, I once decided to wear a waistbelt over a scarlet waistcoat with a Prince Charlie for some ball or other, and sought the advice of an old Highlander friend. His comment was, "The more rudely you wear Highland Dress, the more likely you are to be right!"
Carrie Campbell has an amusing anecdote about plundered "coats of arms" --
My family and I went back to Scotland to visit with family. We went to visit one of the wool mills outside Edinburgh. Some of the tour companies used to make stops there, so as i was looking at some of the clan plaques, two couples from Texas wandered over. They fussed about for over ten minutes looking at all of the plaques. They finally decided to buy "their clan". As the clerk went to the back room to get it for them, one of the ladies remarked in a loud voice that " Oh honey, can't we get this other one?? Its so much prettier thans ours!!"
James Munro sends this military tale ...
Enjoyed your offerings on Brigadoon! You asked for anecdotes that may be fitting for your page. I realize I must keep this clean and will do so...at great effort!
I was a piper with the 1st Battalion Irish Fusiliers of Canada (The Vancouver Regiment). As you well know our duties required us to pipe various calls: Last Post, First Meal Mess, Defaulters Parade (interestingly, the tune we used was "A man's a Man for All That") etc. The tune we played for Reveille was "The Bugle Horn". A good-going lively air but, in time it became rather tedious listenening to myself rendering same at 5:00 in the morning. One morning, as I piped reveille through the officers lines I thought they might appreciate a bit of a change so alternated "The Bugle Horn" with another of my own choosing. When it came time for Battalion parade the Pipe Major asked me just what tune I had played for this duty. I told him: "Pipey, I naturally played "the Bugle Horn"." He, knowing me too well, asked: "Did you, by any chance, play another?" I had to be honest and said: "Yes, Pipey, I alternated this with 'Jesus Loves Me'" A bit non-plussed he cautioned me to stick with what was listed in Regimental Orders as the proper tune". Still, I think the officers must have awakened with a more Christian attitude towards the 'Other Ranks'!!!
Kathy Keenan confesses to participation in what may have been the WORST EVER peformance of our favorite musical ...
Performed in the musical Brigadoon in high school. We used costumes from another production that were originally for Russian peasants, some of the scenerey was from The King and I, and the piper they hired was Polynesian. Of course, being high spirited teenagers, we snuck some good Scotch whiskey to the cast party closing night (probably the only authentic item associated with the entire production !)
On the peculiar subject of tartan kirking (i.e. parading tartans into churches with much pomp and circumstance) Georgine Ferguson advises:
From what I know of the "Kirking" it originated in the United States during the Second World War. Rev. Peter Marshall, a Scotsman (and at that time, Chaplain of the U.S. Senate) began the "Kirking" in honor of his homeland. I do not know all the details off the top of my head, but there must be something on the Internet about him.
On the same subject, Sarah Ellen Scallan says,
I read that Peter Marshall started the "kirkin' o' the tartans" as a way to bring attention to the British plight and to help raise money before the U.S. became involved in World War II.
The acknowledged master of Scottish MIDI music (and esteemed arranger of much of the traditional music on this website) Barry Taylor, writes with the following words of high praise (?!?) for McAlister's arrangement of the BRIGADOONERY ! theme, Scotland the Brave ...
"Yours reminded me of my first rendition of the tune ... A cyber-acquaintance in Scotland, not realizing that I had sequenced it, described it as "played by a bad polka band." My musical ego was destroyed ... for a couple of days. Then I realized that he was probably right. I had taken a tune that they hold high and had sequenced it in the pluperfect subjunctive mood. A serious rendition it is not, but, like yours, it fits the lighthearted spirit and intent of BRIGADOONERY ! A-one and-a-two and-a-three and-a ... "
Hilderic Browne, of Ottawa, Canada also informs us:
SCIENTISTS have discovered the original "Creature From The Black Lagoon" - a primitive Scottish swamp beast that was one of the first animals to walk on land. The land vertebrate - tetrapod - died out millions of years ago but may offer new insights into evolution, confirming suspicions that developments did not take place in neat, incremental stages.
Dr Jennifer Clack of Cambridge University announces in Nature that fossils of the tetrapod, belonging to a group known as the baphetids, have been found in 335 million-year-old rocks in central Scotland.
She has given the four-legged, salamander-like animal, which was about one foot long, had a large and flattish head, the Greek name, Eucritta melanolimnetes - The Beautiful Creature From The Black Lagoon. It had several features common to living tetrapods, but no descendants among living creatures.
The fact that the fossil has features common to other vertebrates shows that evolutionary changes took place at different times among similar groups of creatures, says Dr Neil Shubin of the University of Pennsylvania.
Lesley Nelson sends us this true-life adventure:
My son and I stopped in a Strathaven pub (obviously we prefer places off the beaten track as it were -- not a single tourist was in sight). Even before my beer arrived a gentleman began to chat with us. He asked my son (who is fourteen) if he liked to fish. He's a clever lad and though he has been fishing and has no great liking for it, sensed there was a story in the telling. He answered, of course, that he loved to fish and proceeded to prove it with a short discussion of the best type of rod (bamboo, of course). I, of course, only nodded knowingly, proving that even if I didn't know anything I was wise enough to keep my mouth shut. This is the jist of the story:
A young lad went down to the loch to fish (there is great fishing in the loch's around Strathaven). He kept casting his line without any luck. But up the shore a bit there was a gentleman who no sooner cast his line than he pulled out a fish. As the other gentleman was packing up the young lad crossed to him. He explained that he'd been watching him, and envious of his luck, asked if he could let him in on the secret of his succes.
Well, the expert fisherman said, "I give the worm a bit o' Bourbon whiskey." (Nothing was said about how much he consumed...) He didn't have any left, however.
The lad was downcast and the man considered a while, shook his head and said, "Well, I don't have any Bourbon Whiskey left, but I do have a wee bit o Scotch Whiskey. I don't know if it'll work, but you're welcome to have a go..."
Sure enough, the lad no sooner put the drunken worm in the water than there was a HUGE tug on the line. He struggled and struggled to pull the beast in.
-- and found the worm with a FISH in IT's mouth!
Ah, the wonders of Scotch whiskey!
John Wilson of Vancouver, British Columbia, appears to have been inspired by the picture of the Highland cow. Quoth the bard ...
Upon a hill there stood a coo'
It must have moved, 'cause it's no there noo'
The wee HAGGIS BEASTIE is captured in this rare photograph by John Lester!
While we're on the subject of Haggis, Norm Spencer of Wilton, Maine, USA asks:
"Do you know why a haggis is shaped like a football? You can't tell if you should eat it or kick it. After you have eaten it, you wish you had kicked it!"
On the same subject, “Linda” believes we may have mis-identified the wee beastie in our photo:
Why do you have
picture of a hedgehog and more importantly why do you say it’s a haggis?? Ilka
%$# kens that geme beastie has yin lang leg an yin short yin, for runnin roon
the bottom o mountains. It disnae hae fower legs!
My story takes place one grey day ( or as we say here gie dreich)
at Blackness Castle on the forth. As castles go its not one of Scotia's
bonniest but it does have its statutory claim to fame, yes Mary Queen of Scots
stayed here too, on the occasion of her escape from Loch Leven castle and on
her road to England. After that it became Scotland Prison and fell into
disrepair and abandonment before electricity had been invented. In most castles
the court yard is lawn like, in Blackness its rough hewn rock and definitely a
safety issue for anyone with anything but flat shoes on their feet. In the
midst of all this there stood a woman, probably in her thirties, mini skirt up
her arse, platform shoes 3 inches high at the toes.
As we passed her, she exclaimed to her male companion several feet away, in her Texan drawl, “Gee, you think they would have installed elevators here!”
Even my 12 year old son fell down laughing at her.
Linda Rableather also saw this article in “The Scotsman,” and thought it was pertinent:
Beware haggis signs
COUNCILS chiefs in north-east Scotland have ordered the removal of the
mysterious signs which appeared outside an Aberdeenshire village, pointing
motorists and tourists towards a "haggis sanctuary", apparently
created to protect the endangered species.
The well-designed and seemingly official signs left locals nonplussed when they
were erected near the hamlet of Oyne, showing motorists the way to "Bob's
Farm and Haggis Sanctuary".
Thursday, 29 November 2001
“The Scotsman”
Music: The Skunk, comp. & arr. By Neil Harding McAlister, © 1999
