One of the strangset reactions I've ever had was a bloke who came up to me in the capital, just opposite Deacon Brodie's. He was on his own and about 30-ish. It turns out that he was English-born but with Scots ancestry. He rushed across the road and came up and shook my hand really vigourously, saying,

"I've been watching you from across the street for the last five minutes, and I've decided! I've decided I'm going to move to Scotland as soon possible! It's you wearing your kilt as if it's the most natural thing in the world. I was born south of the border, but I'm gonna come home now.Thanks!"

And that was it! I never got to hear more of his story. He seemed a rational, intelligent sort of fella. Nothing odd or peculiar about him but, for him, the thing that tipped the balance was wearing my kilt. Bizarre yet heartwarming!

You never know how deep your display runs.

Slainte

Bruce