Beating Heartbreak, the Scottish Way

Beating Heartbreak, the Scottish Way

Aidan was in love, and it was for the very first time. He had never usually had any luck with the ladies throughout his primary and secondary school years, but now, at University, he was truly beginning to experience the world of romance. The only problem was, Aidan was a Scotsman, and not just any old Scotsman. Aidan was a Scotsman, going to school in America.

Aidan had made the decision to attend University in America because he felt like his lifelong passion, music, was best pursued in Boston, home to one of the most prestigious music universities in American, Berklee College of Music. Although he most certainly had options in his own home country, he wanted the organic and raw experiences he believed the homeland of Jazz, Blues, and Rock and Roll would bestow upon him.

And bestow organic and raw experiences it did. His first semester there after being accepted, it seemed as if no one could get over the fact that he was Scottish. People were always asking him to accompany them at bars and other alcoholic festivities to see just how drunk he could really get. Naturally, Aidan saw this as a way of making his mark on this newfound culture and got so drunk one night that he went off on a wildly aggressive tangent, breaking bottles and throwing tables, ranting about Scottish independence. Not only did this episode gain him admiration amongst his fellow classmates, it caught him the eye of Susie, a California native studying guitar and songwriting.

Susie approached him the next day about the previous night and instantly became interested. She admired his heavy-stocked sway and his thick, Scottish accent. She asked him why he chose to come to the United States to study music, and he proceeded to tell her his life story. Conversely, Aidan became quite interested in her as well, admiring her unique sense of fashion (she wore bandanas, sundresses, and a unique combination of flip-flops and ankle-wear), sharp personality, wit, and aspiration towards life. They started seeing each other, having meals together, practicing together, and spending more and more time outside of school with each other. Soon enough, Aidan was head over heels in love with her.

And soon enough, Susie truly began to realize what a pain it was trying to hold conversation with him. His sayings were so outlandish that sometimes she could barely understand a word of what he was saying. Often, he would accuse her of being the “wee hen that never layed away,” meaning she was constantly playing the innocent with him, or he would tell her to “haud yer wheesht!” meaning shut up. Eventually, Susie grew sick of hauding her wheesht that she left him, after no more than two months of dating him.

And Aidan, being a musical Scotsman, knew of the perfect way to get over the heartbreak Susie’s departure gave him. Every day, after his classes were over, he would head over to her dorm room door and serenade her, right outside her door, with a simple song he wrote just for her. She often complained to the administration, but they simply laughed at her. It was always the same song, never a different one, and it went like this:

 

“Haud yer wheesht, haud yer wheesht,

Tatties o’wer the side,

Haud yer wheesht, haud yer wheesht,

There’s nowhere you can hide,

From good’ol Aidan the Scotsman,

I’ll raise to you a cup,

Mony a mickle maks a muckle,

Heid doon arse up!

Haud yer wheesht, haud yer wheesht,

Tatties o’wer the side,

It’s a lang road that’s no goat a turnin’,

Until you’ll say you’re mine!”

***

We owe a lot to Haymarket Physical Therapy for keeping our internets wide open – thanks for all you do!

 

The Blackening Of The Bride And The Groom

The Blackening Of The Bride And The Groom

My friend was getting married and all of us were on our way to enjoy a typical Scottish wedding. My friend Jane wasn’t a Scot by any definition but she was marrying her high school sweetheart Clyde. Clyde was born and brought up in Scotland. His family could trace their Scottish ancestry across many generations. That’s how Jane and her entire troop (friends and family included) made their way to Scotland for her special day.

I have to say that Scotland was beautiful but I wish Clyde had prepared us for the Scottish traditions to come. I’m not even sure if Jane knew about them. With the wedding just a few days away, Clyde informed everyone about a party that his family would be hosting. He said that it was the norm before any Scottish wedding. It was a tradition that they followed to ward off all evil spirits and ensure that the couple would have a great life ahead. Then he said something that struck me as weird at that time. It was only later that understood what he meant. He told us to come in our oldest clothes as we would be getting dirty.

We gamely arrived dressed in our worst and boy was I glad that I followed his advice. Looking around I saw barrels of uggghhh… I really can’t say what. Some had flour, others feathers. There were even some which were filled with treacle and soot! I couldn’t help wondering if we had got the venue wrong. From the corner of my eye, I watched as Jane arrived at the scene. She wrinkled her nose. To me she looked surprised too!

A number of the local Scots had gathered around and the mood was festive. It was baffling. A loud cheer went through the air and I turned to see Clyde making his entry. What happened next was hard to imagine. The guys in the vicinity pounced on Clyde and ripped of his shirt. Someone produced a chair and smeared his face with flour. In a matter of seconds the calm atmosphere transformed into boisterous activity. Flour, treacle and soot started flying in all directions. I think some of the Scots had real bad aim as even though I was standing far away, I had to pick a feather or two off my head!

A small scream caught my attention. The women from Clyde’s family had caught hold of Jane and pulled her on to a chair. It wasn’t long before everyone was treating her the same way her fiance was being treated. Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to try it out, I gave it a whirl. I think I applied more soot on myself than I did on her. Despite the circumstances, the excitement was contagious!

Both Clyde and Jane were paraded around the town. It was only later that I learnt that it was called the blackening of the bride/groom. A tradition that was native to Scotland. The Scottish people believed that if the bride and groom can handle the humiliation that this tradition brings them, then they can handle anything (including marriage!). On my part I’m sure Jane was glad it happened days before the wedding. It was going to take a very long bath to get all the goop out of her hair!

I’d like to extend a special “thank you” to our friends over at DJ’s Bail Bonds for their contributions to our blog.

Mom To The Rescue!

Mom To The Rescue!

I love my Scottish heritage but a part of me has always been ashamed of the kilts. I mean, it is all fine and dandy when you are in Scotland and every second male is wearing one. The problem however arises when you travel to other parts of the world. Not many people understand that the Scottish male doesn’t need to wear a pant to be called the head of the household!

That is where all my grief and misery started. It was that time of the year again. The holidays… Time to go home. I was ecstatic! That was until I learnt that all my friends had decided that they wanted to join me this year. Would my family mind? Hell no! I was the one who took offence to the idea. The reason was simple. It was the summer holidays. Summer is a time when all the Scots get out and play traditional games. Small gatherings… Large gatherings… Very Large gatherings… It’s all part of the culture. When you put it like that, it doesn’t seem like a problem but… All the athlete’s have to wear kilts. Its compulsory! How in the world was I going to avoid participating? I was one of the best athletes in the town. My parents always bragged about it. It was going to be a hard situation to weasel out off!

I tried to convince my friends not to visit Scotland but they were determined. In the end five of my friends tagged along. Two females and three males. Their excitement was contagious! They wanted to be a part of the Scottish life and to experience the culture. They even told my parents that! Any Scot worth their salt will welcome the concept. That’s exactly what my parents did! The five of them were lavished with the best food my mother could cook. My father ensured that the beer was kept flowing. The mood was set for the upcoming festivities.

I took my friends to the neighboring sights. They took in the scenic beauty that Scotland is famous for. I even took them to a number of pubs. In one such pub there was a bagpiper playing. His music was average at best and my friends really enjoyed it. When we reached home, they regaled my parents with tales of the days happenings. One of my friends laughingly said that the bagpiper wore a skirt. My mother laughed and told him that it wasn’t a skirt and that it was a kilt. A lot of joking followed. My friend wasn’t ready to back down. Much to my embarrassment, my mother pulled down my photo’s from the mantle. She pointed at me and said, “See! Even he wears a Kilt!”

After that I was the butt of every joke. It made me feel increasingly irritated that my mother had betrayed me. The sports celebrations were the next day. It was something that seemed unavoidable. I prepared myself for further shame. My mother however had other ideas. She commented loudly that Scotland was famous for it’s sports. She went on to explain that the worth of a man was determined by how well he played. She proudly said that her son was one of the best. My Dad smiled at me in pride. My mother then suggested that my friends join the activities. After all she said, only the women stand on the sidelines and watch. My friends were quick to agree. I chuckled. They had no idea what they had committed themselves to!

The next day came pretty quickly. My mother presented my three friends with kilts and told them that they would be allowed to compete only if they wore the kilts. It was a matter of honor. I couldn’t help laughing. The guys had to accept the kilts or they would be called women if they didn’t participate. Their horror filled faces made me guffaw aloud! I enjoyed myself immensely and I even won a few prizes! The best prize however was watching my friends fumble with their kilts. Every once in a while they found themselves exposed to the elements. That made them extra careful! A kilt does keep things cool down there. It was new experience for them. One they would not forget in a hurry! The best part about it was that I had pictures to prove it. That certainly meant that no one was going to talk once they reached school again! My mom is definitely a genius!

*Editor’s Note: We owe http://www.atxsecuritysystem.com a huge debt of gratitude. Thank you for being such a great sponsor.

Some Scottish Humor

Some Scottish Humor

 

The Forgetful Scotsman

Walking to the bus stop today I noticed an elderly Scotsman sitting alone on a bench. Upon further inspection I noticed he was sobbing to himself. I had some time to spare and so I asked the man,

“Sir, what seems to be the matter?”

to which he replied, “Och laddie, I have the most beautiful wife ye ever did lay eyes on, young and fit. Every mornin’ she makes me a hearty breakfast of sausage links, eggs, and a fresh tattie scone…”

I was confused, “What reason is that to be sobbing?”

The elderly Scot continued, “Every day for lunch she prepares a fine plate of fish n’ chips and bakes up the greatest scotch pie in the world!”

Perplexed, I asked once more “So… why are you sobbing?”

The elderly Scot continued, “Every evenin’ come dinner, the lass cooks up the family’s haggis recipe better than me own mum used to, and some of the loveliest clootie dumplings your tongue ever touched for dessert!”

Expecting an answer, I asked a final time “You seem to have it made, what could you possibly be sad about?!”

The elderly Scotsman stopped crying into his tam ‘o shanter bonnet and looked at me with a deep sadness, “I can’t ‘member which home is mine!”

The Scot’s Deaf Wife

After a long day of being out and about, a Scotsman returns to his home at about dinner time. Earlier in the day, he had been to the doctor’s office to consult him about his wife’s loss of hearing. The doctor recommended a simple test involving speaking to his wife at various distances to see how bad the deafness was.

The Scot hung up his coat and decided to try the doctor’s test, “Bonnie I’m ‘ome! What’s fer dinner love?”

There was no response. The Scot took off his boots and walk a ways down the hall. Again, he called out, “Bonnie, I’m ‘ome! What’s fer dinner?”

Still no response! The Scot walked just outside the kitchen, once more he barked, “Oi! Bonnie! Are ye’ deaf? I said I’m ‘ome!”

Nothing. The Scotsman stormed into the kitchen and walked right up to his wife, who was facing him, “Bonnie, are ye’ daft lass? I asked ye…”

He was interrupted by his wife in mid speech, “Donald, fer the fourth and bloody last time, I said we’re ‘avin lorne sausage and stovies! Ya need to get yer ‘earin checked already!”

The Scottish Therapist

There once was a disturbed Scotsman named Willy. Willy had been suffering from what he believed to be unshakable delusions every night. At the end of his rope, he decided to seek the help of a private therapist, afraid of being thrown in a mental ward for being crazy. During his first session, Willy shook the therapists hand and sat down.

“What seems to be troubling you Willy? The letter I received seemed very urgent.” began the therapist.

“Ah’ can’t describe it exactly doctor, but I swear each night there’s somethin’ been makin’ noises under mah bed. I get out ta’ check what’s goin’ on down there, but there’s nothin’ at all! Then ah’ hear something from above, on top of mah bed! I go up to check, and again there’s nothin’ there! It goes on like this all through the night into the wee hours of the morning, I must be goin’ crazy!”

The therapist provides a response after scribbling down some notes, “I’ve seen a case like this before, very recently in fact. I cured the last patient and I’m certain I can do the same for you! Now, it will take some time. I’ll need you to return here two times a week for the next few months.”

“Anythin’ anythin’! ‘Ow much will it cost meh?” replied Willy.

“It will be €50 per session” replied the Therapist.

Willy looked troubled about the cost and sulked off to the local bar for a round. The therapist never saw Willy in his office again. Then, one day, several months later, the therapist and Willy met on the street.

“Why did you never come back to my office?” the therapist replied, shocked that Willy was looking energetic and happy.

“Ah’ didn’t ‘ave nearly enough to pay ye’ €50 each session. Besides, the barman cured me for naught but a onetime charge of €10!” replied Willy.

“What… how in the world did he manage that?” asked the therapist.

“Simple!” exclaimed Willy, “He told meh to saw the legs off me bed!”

 

A huge thanks to the best carpet cleaning in orlando Veritas Carpet Cleaning for helping to keep us going!

 

Bagpipers And More!

Bagpipers And More!

I had always wanted to visit Scotland. It struck as a very mysterious and happening place. A number of my friends had been there before. They told tales of bagpipes and beer. Many said that the food was to die for… The one thing that stood out in everyone’s tale of Scotland was the people. The word is that everyone has a smile for you. No matter where you wander off too… The pub or the street! The Scots are an extremely friendly and welcoming lot.

That being said, I hadn’t got down to planning my trip to Scotland until recently. I read that August was the best time to see the bagpipers in action. As I flipped through my calendar I realized that I had a few days leave that I could spare. With August round the corner, I was soon engulfed in a whirlwind of activity that the planning involved. Luckily I’m a bachelor. I don’t have too many commitments. The one thing that did bother me was that I did not have company. My friends reassured me that I would find company along the way. Besides… The Scots would make sure I never felt alone. They were certain about it! I had my misgivings but the draw to visit Scotland was too strong. I was going with or without company. That was one thing I was certain off.

As luck would have it I met someone on the flight. A pretty girl who had taken it on herself to go home for the week. In fact, no matter where I glanced on the plane, I saw the apparent Scottish heritage on almost everyone’s face. Chances were that no matter where I sat, I was bound to meet a native. Anyway, the girl’s name was Aileen. We both hit it off instantly. When Aileen heard that I was visiting Scotland to learn about their cultures and traditions, she was overjoyed. She took it on herself to show me the ropes (It honestly was not the reaction I expected from a stranger!). Who was I to say no to a beautiful woman?

I found a hotel close to her house and I tumbled in to my room. Luckily, I managed to give her my number before we parted. A quick wash and I was refreshed. It was time to explore. I wandered around the streets and found myself getting caught up in the excitement. The upcoming festival had everyone in high spirits. As I gazed around and walked, I suddenly found myself tumbling face first on to the ground. Grumbling, I hoisted myself up and turned to see who had pushed me. A great big hulk of a man stood towering over me. Not wanting any trouble, I was about to apologize to the man when he threw his arms round me and said sorry. He hoisted me up and I can still remember my legs dangling in the air. It was such a relief to finally have solid ground under them when he put me down. I turned to go, but the man caught my hand and dragged me in through a nearby door.

Sweat poured down my neck. I was sure that I was going to get a beating. I started apologizing profusely and tried to get away but the man was strong. He dragged me into a well lit room and there I saw Aileen sitting on the counter. Glancing around I saw that it was a pub. There was a general air of merriment. Aileen jumped down and smiled.

“So I see you’ve met my Dad!” she said

The color drained out of my face. I was dead! The man was angry that I had flirted with his daughter. She threw a cloth at me and said “Go change!”

“What’s this?” I asked baffled

“Your kilt!” she said with a smile

“I never said anything about wearing a skirt!” I said insulted

“There is only one way to truly enjoy Scottish traditions and culture. That is to join in on the fun. That’s the reason Dad got you the kilt!” said Aileen laughing

“You set it all up!” I exclaimed and let out a sigh of relief. The people in the pub burst out laughing and so did the man who dragged me in.

I consented and wore the kilt. It wasn’t that bad an idea after all. The only thing that I needed to ensure was that the wind did not expose my family jewels! I later found out that the pub was owned by Aileen’s family and they had arranged a bagpiper night. It was awesome. Did I mention that the food and the beer were delicious? At the end of it all, I learned one thing… The Scots are very friendly but they love to have their bit of fun too!

 

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