Monday, March 20, 2006

When Irish Eyes are Bloodshot

Okay, that's it. I'm emailing my Celtic fiddler friend and asking her if she knows any groups on the lookout for an Ornamental Female Vocalist.

My brother-in-law, who does open mike nights on a regular basis, got invited to perform at a St. Patrick's Day weekend festival at La Villita in San Antonio last night. Not one to let a complete lack of knowledge of Gaelic music stop him, he recruited my husband and a couple of musician friends, printed out the lyrics to a bunch of Irish standards from online, and whipped up a few arrangements. They called themselves the Irish Pirates, wore eyepatches and bandanas, drank heavily, and belted out a set that'll leave Danny Boy walking funny for a week.

Thank God the audience had a great sense of humor. When my husband first told me what the group was planning to do, I thought for sure they were going to get lynched.

So it was before this gentle and good-humored - and, possibly, not entirely sober - audience that I made my Celtic song debut. I kind of sucked. I really wanted to do a song but I didn't want to do a song but I wanted the guys to want me to do a song so I could tell them no but I wanted them to press me into it but they didn't try to talk me into it which means nobody appreciates me and I was so mad and...

I think all that red meat I ate in San Angelo turbo-charged my PMS.

So with all that fretful dilly-dallying, I ended up not rehearsing and deciding I wouldn't sing, but the next band on was late arriving and my guys were out of material, so I stepped up to the mike and tremblingly let out a few verses of this Scottish neo-traditional song.

Damn it. I can do better. I want another try! Next time I'll eat salads for a week first.


At March 17, 2009 9:48 AM, Anonymous JMcD said...

My composition of "When Irish Eyes Are Bloodshot"....James McDowell....♫♪
When Irish eyes are bleeding,
Sure it's like a rushing spring.
In the crush of Irish migraines,
You can hear the demons sing.
When Irish are hungover,
All the world seems loud and fey.
So when Irish eyes are bleeding,
Take the smell of that pint away.♫♪

There was a tear in your eye,
last night at the sty,
A thinking about Patty's songs.
With such power in your smile,
And great thirst all the while,
There was ne'er a full mug in a mile.
When your sharp lilting cackle's raised your drinking mate's hackles,
And your eyes twinkled bright as could be,
You laughed all the while and all other times smiled,
The payoff's this sad penalty.♫♪
Repeat first verse.


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