Half a year on, and new data is emerging: when I play my practice chanter, he gets a big grin on his face. When I finish a tune, he says “more!” And several times, he’s managed to get his little mitts on my chanter and tries to blow it. Since it’s about three-quarters as long as him, he’s had a bit of difficulty, let alone I blow a hard reed.
However, verrrry promising. We’ll have him on pìobaireachd in no time!
I think I’ve posted this before, but there’s no joke like an old joke, eh? What’s the definition of a gentleman? Someone who can play the bagpipes but doesn’t.
Nothing brings tears to my eyes like hearing that song pipers always play for military funerals.
There’s electronic bagpipes now, I can’t for the life of me remember his name at the moment (for which I should thoroughly kick myself), but a Spanish piper came up with the idea and it became the “project” of a friend of his who was studying Electronic Engineering (in Spain, Engineers need to write a sort-of-thesis to graduate).
It allowed him to practice without driving the neighbors up the wall or himself into the ER with an overdose of birdshot in his lungs, but he performs with regular pipes.
I was just about to start typing an encouraging reply about your offspring’s future recitals and gold medals and such, but got completely sidetracked by this:
Enter Piper Cub. He walks over to Piper, pulls on Piper’s eyelid to see if Piper is still in there, then picks up the Piper glasses from the nightstand and gives them to Piper. He then takes Piper’s hand, and says “Come.”
Piper groggily follows the Cub into the study. The Cub points to the sheet music on the music stand, then to the pipes on the desk, and says, firmly: “Play!”
