Crashing a ceilidh

After Montreal, the vacation continued through New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and Nova Scotia. While we were driving on Prince Edward Island, Cathy noticed a commercial on the radio for a ceilidh. (According to dictionary.com, a ceilidh is "an Irish or Scottish social gathering with traditional music, dancing, and storytelling." By the way, the "dh" is silent.) We thought this would be a good chance to experience some east coast culture, hear music, dance, and that sort of thing.

So we arrived at the Benevolent Irish Society hall that evening and found a room full of middle aged and elderly people sitting in chairs listening to a live Celtic band. The music was good and the hall was packed, but it really wasn't what we expected. Nobody was dancing (for one thing there wasn't room), and there was a lack of people our age.

We sat and listened for a while, and then we noticed that Nick was asleep. (He said he can't really just sit and listen to live music, no matter how good it is.) We figured we wouldn't stay until the end. Then Cathy suggested that we go and dance in the parking lot. I have to admit I dragged my feet a bit, but it was a good idea. We figured out that a polka step seemed to work with the song, so we danced. Then we got our other friends. Nick told the ticket guy what was going on and asked if they could teach us a dance. So a few people came outside to teach us a folk dance. After we sort of got the basics, they asked the band to play a song that would go with the dance.

By intermission we were pretty sure we'd stay for the whole event. After intermission, the same people taught us another folk dance and then asked the band to play a song to go with it. So by then, everyone in the hall knew we were there and knew what we were doing. After that dance, we sat back down and listened to some more music. I think Nick stayed awake this time. Afterward, we thanked the band and our teachers. I got the impression they enjoyed teaching us those dances.

So I want to thank my friends, especially Cathy and Nick, for taking a somewhat disappointing evening and turning it into one of the most memorable parts of the trip. You made a lot of people's day. And a big thank you to the warm, hospitable people at that hall in Charlottetown for accommodating us and passing on a bit of your culture.

Saxomaphone

Last Tuesday, I was on the train on the way home from band practice. After I got on the train and sat down, a guy had a question.

"What's in that case?" he asked, referring to my saxophone case. He sounded like he wasn't all there mentally, maybe drunk or mentally ill. (Some people have bad gaydar; I have trouble telling what's impairing a person mentally. And my gaydar probably isn't very good either.)

"A saxophone," I replied.

"Were you just rocking out?"

"I was at band practice."

I think he thought I was in a rock band or something, and I tried to explain what kind of band I'm in (a concert band, kind of like a high school band, but with adults), but he kept interrupting and didn't seem to get it. And he talked about Homer Simpson saying "saxomaphone." It was all semi-intelligible.

"You play guitar too?" he asked.

"No."

"You fucking asshole. You play music but you don't play guitar?" Judging by his tone of voice, he didn't mean this as a serious insult and he wasn't going to hurt me, but he was quite surprised that I play music but don't play the guitar.

Then he asked me to play something for him. So I asked where he's getting off, and he said he's getting off at the next stop, which is two stops from the end of the line. "But I'll stay on the train until the last stop if you play something." I found myself wondering if it's illegal to play a musical instrument on the train, but I guessed that nobody would care, so I started setting up the saxophone.

"You'd better rock out."

I was having trouble even thinking of a song that I remembered how to play, but as I finished setting up, I thought of a song we had just played at our concert last weekend called "Fidgety Feet." I think it's a ragtime song. We had the melody near the start of the song, so I played that small part of the song.

"Cool. Can I have your phone number?"

"Um. No."

I thought of another song that I know that would probably be more familiar: "Heartbreak Hotel." He seemed to enjoy it, and another guy on the train applauded a bit. I was starting to enjoy this.

"Do you know that Lisa Simpson song?" At first I thought he was referring to the part of The Simpsons theme song where Lisa improvs on the saxophone. That part of the theme song changes once in a while, so I don't remember any specific versions. Then he said something about Michael Jackson, so I thought he might be talking about the "Lisa It's Your Birthday" song. I didn't know how to play that song, but I remembered a little bit of The Simpsons theme song from when we played it in high school band. So I played a line or two of that song.

Then he asked me, "Do you know how to play 'Amazing Grace'?" I do know how to play it, so I played a verse. He tried singing along for a bit of it. Like his talking, it was semi-intelligible. We were almost at the end of the line, which is where I get off, so I started putting away the saxophone. He asked if I could play a bit more, but I said I have to go. As I got off the train, he was still sitting there, semi-intelligibly singing another verse of "Amazing Grace."