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Thread: Feasgar math

  1. #1
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    Feasgar math

    I was reading a bunch of old threads on this site while google searching for pics of vintage tweed Agyle jackets and decided to just go ahead and sign up. Sites like this disappear if new folks don't participate; since I found a bunch of useful info I figured I would do my little bit to keep it active.

    Anyways, I'm based out of Seattle these days but tend to be on the road a fair bit. I'm a working musician and while I'd prefer to stay close to the PNW that isn't always where the gigs are. I'll be between Vancouver BC, Seattle, and Portland for the next couple months so I'm able to work on some personal projects. At least until someone calls up and needs ol' Chango Malo to bail 'em out. Then it's off to the airport again.

    see you guys in the funny papers

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    Last edited by Bad Monkey; 4th April 19 at 01:48 PM.

  2. #2
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    Welcome to the "Great Rabble"!
    Rev'd Father Bill White: Retired Parish Priest & Elementary Headmaster, lover of God, people (most of them!) dogs, joy, humour & clarity. Legion Padre, theologian, teacher, philosopher, linguist, dreamer, traditionalist, bon-vivant, encourager of hearts & souls & a firm believer in dignity, decency, & duty. A proud Sinclair.

  3. #3
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    Welcome from Calgary!
    "Good judgement comes from experience, and experience
    well, that comes from poor judgement."
    A. A. Milne

  4. #4
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    Hello and welcome from Southern California.

  5. #5
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    Welcome from the other side of the Atlantic. I'm a Scotsman living in the English midlands.

  6. #6
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    Well met and welcome new northwestern friend. I hope you found good info on the tweed jackets you searched for and find one in the real world that fits your needs. Glad to have you with us. Let us know if you kiilt-up for any of your gigs. Photos would certainly be welcomed.

  7. #7
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tarheel View Post
    Well met and welcome new northwestern friend. I hope you found good info on the tweed jackets you searched for and find one in the real world that fits your needs. Glad to have you with us. Let us know if you kiilt-up for any of your gigs. Photos would certainly be welcomed.
    I did indeed find some useful info. For sure found some new rabbit holes to go down. It would have been nice if P-Bucket hadn't given everyone a kick in the shins a ways back. There used to be a couple tricks to get those "hidden" photos to show up but alas they found us out and locked up all the back doors. I'm pretty well stocked with tweed by now although a vintage houndstooth would certainly find a home. It's just that with this gray forlock that's shown up (when did that actually happen?) I've been doing some recon on how the old gents that used to fill up my Nan's kitchen late at night made a comfortable old jacket look just right. I can't remember how many after hours kitchen parties there were; my Great Grandfather and Grandad 'holding court' at the corner of the table, way too many musicians packed around trying not to get cut out of the circle when the bottle got passed around. I wish I could remember half the reels, jigs, and other fiddle tunes that we used to play back then. I tell a story about how I knew I really wanted to be a musician sometimes at festivals and workshops I teach at when someone asks:
    I was 5-6 years old, my brother almost two years younger. Grandad was playing fiddle, G-Grandfather had his flute and tinwhistles out since Nan forbid pipes in the house... There were the usual cast of rascals filling in on whatever they'd brought along and it was absolutely grand. It was way past when we should have been in bed and Nan came through to collect us cousins and put us to bed. I protested saying that I had a tune I wanted to play and didn't want to go to bed. Nan denied the request but gave in when Grandad said "hey, we want to hear the tune!". Now mind, I hadn't played much other than quietly strumming along on an old parlor guitar. I certainly had never sung or led anything at all. So all eyes were on me, Grandad says "go ahead, let's hear it". So off I went, hacked my way through "The Mermaid". I got most of it right through the second verse when grandad jumped in. within a few bars everyone had picked it up and the whole kitchen was in top gear again! We finished the tune and everyone was laughing and kidding each other with "hah, you dropped the intro on the fourth verse Geordie" and "are you gonna tune up tonight?" just like one of them had led the tune off. I was one happy little kid. That is until Nan said "now off to bed with you". To my everlasting gratitude, and I will love the man forever for what he said next; Grandad said "nah, musicians stay up and play!" And I stayed up and played. My brother and the rest of my cousins there went to bed! I even got a taste of whisky from Grandfather's flask. I didn't appreciate it much in the moment but there isn't much I wouldn't do now for another drop these days. It was that night I knew I wanted to be a musician. Because musicians got to stay up late and drink stuff the others didn't get.

    As far as wearing kilts to gigs, I do most of the time when playing with my home band (Scots/Irish trad based) but not often in hired-gun work unless someone else in the band also has been known to rock a kilt.

    And I've rambled on far too long as per usual...

  8. The Following User Says 'Aye' to Bad Monkey For This Useful Post:


  9. #8
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    My granddad owned a bar (which he ran when not on the road as a long distance trucker). Those late nights, he and his pals would all have banjos, guitars, spoons and jugs to play while sipping on strange home brewed libations. My senses remember well the denim, leather, harmonies and sawdust. Old men wearing tweed jackets have a place among us and our memories.

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