After fourteen years of jigging it up with the Northern Suburbs Scottish Highland Pipe Band, last night I handed in my sporran and did the old resigneroo. There were tears (or what would have been tears, were my ex-fellow-bandspersons not congenitally predisposed to stiff upper lippery), firm handshakes, and a dozen sets of bagpipes mournfully impersonating flatulent geese. I delivered a rousing oration (yes, of course I did), exhorting my ex-fellow-bandspersons to pipe louder, faster, and in ever less socially appropriate locations, then promptly nicked off with a new reed.
Not being myself congenitally predisposed to stiff upper lippery, I here shed a tear for the piping life that was, for a band that strathspeyed its way through the Sheik Zaid Camel Racing Championships, for countless ripostes to strangers enquiring after my knickers, for airport security staff understandably concerned about letting ten sets of disassembled bagpipes pass for hand luggage. Farewell, Northern Suburbs Scottish Highland Pipe Band! May your kilts never be caught by indecorous gusts of wind, your bags never suffer puncture wounds just before important performances, and may your silly hats provide ongoing delight to silly hat fanciers across the nation.*
* These silly hats bear no resemblance to silly hat featured above.
5 comments:
Northern Suburbs The Brave*
What is that mighty raucus,
Is it a Labor caucus?
Is it the Pitt St hawkers,
Down by the Strand?
No, 'tis that northern chorus
Here to tattoo before us,
March right up to us and floor us,
The Northern Suburbs Pipe Band.
* I know, it doesn't have much of a ring to it, but it's a parody!
Or:
Fair fa' your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain of the pipin' race,
Aboon them a' ye take your place:
Dudelsack or Shawm:
Well were ye' wardy of a grace
As lang's my arm!
Have you considered doing this professionally, Mr T?
I don't think Meanjin are paying for journalists to be on their staff this year, and This Life will only pay for submissions if I through in a real life stalker story in there. But thanks for the compliment!
Seriously though, you never know. My current job is dull as dull and after my little excursion overseas I may be on the lookout for some new, more flexible working arrangement.
I had a friend who worked for This Life, and let me tell you, journalism doesn't get any better than that. All you have to do is give birth to twin iguanas, and there, you've got your story. If you can eat the afterbirth, so much the better.
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