Peace pipes, dude, a bunchae rain, Maxville meltdoons, and Glasgow bound

Harry’s been awash in all the rain of late, and he had to cancel last week’s darts match. Thankfully, none of the mates were coming anyway, and no one was left standing in the rain.

The same could not be said of folks showing up to attend the St. Andrew’s Games in Sconny Botchland, who got all the way off road and to the front gate before seeing a sign “Cancelled due to rain.”

Rain? Rain?! In Scotland?! Whoda drunkit?

A disgruntled visitor writes:

Not a word on their website, or the local radio. The approach to the park is about 1km down a road – a sign at the top pointing the way (no mention of cancellation). It’s not at all obvious until you’ve walked all the way down where the games are, until you’re met with a sign with the above message.

Met several groups of tourists on my way back who were looking for the place. One gentleman had come all the way from Manchester just for it. Thing is, the park wasn’t waterlogged and the rain had all but abated by 1pm, when the first event was due to start.

Another classic highland games f$#@ up, then. I can only hope they told the competitors. And since when did scots not venture out to compete in the rain? As my granny says, “you’ll no melt!”

A hard rain’s a gonna fall here and there over the summer, and Harry hopes that organizers will do due diligence in letting people know about changes.

The North American Champeenships are done and dusty already, with the Peelers taking the prize again for the fourth straight year. A few things came to Harry’s feeble mind watching this rather chaotic two-day slate of solo and band contests unfold: too many events. Too many competitors. Not enough time. The scramble of pipers and drummers running every which way on Friday and Saturday is almost comedy. Stewards waving fingers at some of the world’s best pipers; competitors scratched for “not checking in,” solo events running on and on and on, judges not even brought a cup of coffee on a chilly morning. Seriously, folks. Things have to be brought back a peg or two or we’re looking at repercussions. Maxville organizers are already talking about capping entries, not just for their own Gold Medal events, but for all events. Meanwhile, it’s tough to continue to call the Grade 1 competition a true North American championship when Simon Fraser University, Dowco-Triumph Street, and the 78th Halifax don’t attend, not to mention Metro New York and Stuart Highlanders in Grade 2. This will be interesting . . .

Due diligence is what the RSPBA was doing when it didn’t allow the Australian Knox Grammar School to compete at the European Championships recently, or at least that’s the story. Harry thinks reasonable people everywhere see this as RSPBA folly, and suggests that the Grammar School lads might be buoyed by the words of John Knox himself, who said:

“Resistance to tyranny is obedience to God.” Harry’s pretty sure God is against this RSPBA ruling, given her long-term stand for fairness.

The annual pilgrimage to Glasgow is almost underway, and the Facebook and Twitter chatter is reaching fever pitch. “Best practice in a year.” “The band’s going fantastic.” “Corps is sounding great.” “Amazing runs this weekend.” Honestly, people, Harry’s getting the runs just reading all this self-promotional dribble. Let your music do the talking, and forget about trying to influence results with chatter‹-the results sheets have already been made anyway! [Harry’s just kidding, having a laugh, pulling your leg . . . but he heard this week that a band is definitely going to win.]

Harry’s a devout YouTube enthusiast for the away games, and he thought this a pretty odd video. Here’s one Grade 1 band from British Columbia being judged at a regional contest by the pipe-major of its main rival! And don’t worry, the tenors brought the airplane in for a safe landing during the reel.

Now, Harry doesn’t usually get too worked up or emotional, but here’s a little project that’s very close to his heart. Mother Earth needs our help, and after 150 years of cutting heavy trees, elephant and narwhal tusks, Harry thinks that all right-thinking pipers and drummers should get behind this new Pipes of Peace project (link).

Harry really hopes that someone will take the time to write the score for this tune, and share it with the earth-loving piping public, so that we can all get our Highland on (c’mon, you LOVE that sporran!), step into the river, and feel the flow of Mother Earth.

Harry’s going to participate for sure. Ever since Henrietta started following the Playboy yoga channel, he just can’t stand the view indoors.

Stay covered when you stretch friends, and throw a lifeline to Harry when you get the chance.