A little advice for all you folks travelling to the North American Nationals this week...

You know that sign at the airport just before you go through the metal detector that says “Please remove shoes and outer garments”?

“Outer garments” doesn’t mean pants.

Don’t ask me how I know, but trust me on this one.

Have a safe trip!

And good luck!

Stage 3

Stage 3

Of pine and fir I was mauled
ripped in terror from my stand
falling
falling
barely landing from whence I was dragged
roughly to the screeching and ripping
my skin flayed back
lathed, sliced, and stretched
sinew bound against sinew
barely breathing

barely alive

transported here in chaos
braced, skewered, and patched hewn
a compliant plane
waiting

waiting

The young ones came first
halting
hesitant
touching lightly and fearful of the leviathan beneath
with guarded, shallow steps as children do
tolerated
while they, retreating to familiar arms, squeal
did you see?
Did You See Me!

Others come untethered
older now
in twos and threes
buoyed by and through unison floating
threaded and wheeling
laughing
some leaping yes falling
skinning egos and knees

Out beyond the edge of my skin
she alone a warning whispers

“I am here”

Others quickly are upon me
line on line with
tattooed steps
marching corner to corner
side to side
without nuance
without …

“I am here”,
her voice cajoles
and abruptly scampers cross my frame
catlike
taunting
twisting
leaping
ever just beyond my grasp
tormenting
and skittering away innocent
hidden amidst the rainfall
of awkward batters.

Some ancient thing within me wakes
with arched frame taut
and quivering

I wait

In heavies now my spine is traced
subtle hammers
affix my tone
my resonance rendered
music
dancer
thunder
alive in frenzy above me
we two together
fused
kinetic rapture

rippling

alive!

Sudden silence suffocating
the music ends

With drunken steps she staggers off
demon child with eyes erupt
in tears, gasping
“I must go”
amid steps diminishing into a final sound
the echoed recoil of a distant door
closing

Addicted to Feis

The Feis Season is in full swing and a delightful Feis Mom from North Carolina requested a re-post of the Feis National Anthem!

For the full effect, crank up the speakers and click here for some cheesy accompaniment.

Addicted to Feis

The lights are on, but you’re not home
You’re on the road to parts unknown
Your heels are in, your toes are out
Is this what life is all about?
You can’t sleep, you gotta dance
There might not be a second chance
Your arms are straight with Velcro sleeves
The treble jig is all you need!

Whoa, you often wonder how you got into this mess, oh yeah!
Got to get to prelims and that new Solo Dress
You know you’re gonna have to face it you’re addicted to Feis

Dance floor looks in sorry shape
But that’s quite alright, you brought duct tape
The music starts, you hardly breathe
Your heart beats at Oireachtas speed!
The judge just smiled at your slip jig
Or was she frowning at that triple wig?
You wear your Ghillies laced nice and tight
Too bad they’re playing a slow horn pipe!

Whoa, you often wonder how you got in this mess, oh yeah
Got to get to prelims and that new Solo Dress
You know you’re gonna have to face it you’re addicted to Feis

Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis

Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis!

The lights are on, but you’re not home
You’re on the road to parts unknown
Your heels are in, your toes are out
Is this what life is all about?

Whoa, you often wonder how you got in this mess, oh yeah!
Got to get to prelims and that new Solo Dress
You know you’re gonna have to face it you’re addicted to Feis

Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis
Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis

Might as well face it you’re addicted to Feis!

Take this Feis and Shove it!

All of us have been to one Feis or another at which we swore, “I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never dance here again. No, nor any of my folk. As God is my witness, I'll never dance at this Feis again”.

Or words to that effect...

Now there’s a song to express your frustration.

For the full effect, crank up the speakers and click here for some cheesy accompaniment.

Take This Feis and Shove It!

Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more
I’ve had it to here with slippery stages
And long waits for scores
The Syllabus said it starts at eight thirty
I didn’t dance till four
Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more.

Parquet floors are great for weddings,
But not for the treble reel
Falling on my butt in slip jig
Somehow lost its fun appeal
Crowded hallways and nasty restrooms
And half-hour lines to go pee
Take a good look at my face
It’s the last you’ll see of me

Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more
I’ve had it to here with slippery stages
And long waits for scores
The Syllabus said it starts at eight thirty
I didn’t dance till four
Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more.

I’ve been Feising seven long years now
And seen all that could be seen
Seen some good and seen some bad and
A bunch that were in between
But I’ve never seen a group of people
Quite like your volunteers
They redefined a word like “nasty”
I won’t be back next year

Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more
I’ve had it to here with slippery stages
And long waits for scores
The Syllabus said it starts at eight thirty
I didn’t dance till four
Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more.

Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more
I’ve had it to here with slippery stages
And long waits for scores
The Syllabus said it starts at eight thirty
I didn’t dance till four
Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more.

Take this Feis and shove it
I ain’t dancing here no more.


Note: These lyrics are not related to any known Feis living or dead. Any resemblance to a specific Feis is purely coincidental.

The Future of Irish Dance is in Good Hands

The Putcher Dance

An Coimisiún: An Coimisiún le Rincí Gaelacha, may we help you?

Beauregard: Yes sir you may, I have a question about your figure dance book!

An Coimisiún: Are you reffering to Ár Rinncidhe Fóirne?

Beauregard: Yes thats the one, with the Thirty Popular Figure Dances.

An Coimisiún: Yes sir, how may we help you?

Beauregard: I just can’t seem to find the instructions for the “Putcher Dance”.

An Coimisiún: I’m sorry sir, did you say, “Putcher Dance”?

Beauregard: Yes the “Putcher Dance”! It’s the most popular figure dance in these parts!

An Coimisiún: I’m not aware of any figure dance called the “Putcher Dance”. It might be listed under a different name. Can you describe it?

Beauregard: Sure, the steps are really easy, and goes like this:

You putcher right foot in,
You putcher right foot out;
You putcher right foot in,
And you shake it all about…

An Coimisiún: "CLICK"

What's Cooking at Your House?

ZandB's Daughter: What's for dinner?

ZandB: Your mom's working late so I'm cooking tonight!

ZandB's Daughter: So what you got planned?

ZandB: Something healthy and nutritious that will delight your taste buds!

ZandB's Daughter: Mall food-court?

ZandB: I'll get the car keys...

Feis Registration Boo-boos

You ever wonder why it takes so long for some Feiseanna to post a stage schedule?

It’s because of all the last minute changes that have to be accomplished before putting the schedule “to bed” to include; splitting competitions that are too large, merging competitions that are too small, juggling dancers and adjudicators between stages to avoid conflicts, and last but not least, correcting entries after they have been submitted by the dancer (or dancer’s parents).

Some of the reasons parents cite for changing their child’s Feis entry can be rather entertaining…

Following are a sampling of actual “Feis Registration Boo-boos” sent in to me by some over-worked and underpaid Feis registrars.

Dear Feis Registrar:

- Please change all of my daughter’s Feis registrations from advanced beginner to Novice as she finished first in all her competitions last week and I’m just dying to slather her with that dreadful makeup required at the Novice level.

- In response to your concerns over my son's entry in the slip jig competition, I am aware it is dance typically not performed by boys, but please don’t change the entry because I told him that, if he didn’t clean up his room by Saturday, he’d be dancing slip jig with the girls at the Feis!

- My daughter told me to enter her in the “jig” competition. When I went to your web site I found light jig, slip jig, single jig and treble jig and have no idea which jig she wanted. Can you tell me which dance to enter her in? She doesn’t wear those hard shoes and her mom has to lace her ghillies for her if that’s any help.

- Hello, there seems to be a mistake on my son’s entry. You have him listed as a girl! Can you please change my son back into a boy? If a medical operation is required, I have insurance and I’m sure it would cost less than the price of a solo dress.

- I signed up for the Hornpipe thinking it was a lunch selection sandwich, you know like a Monte Cristo or something. My daughter informed me that I’m an idiot as the Hornpipe is a dance and she doesn’t know the second step and is not yet ready to compete in it! So it is with some embarrassment that I ask you to “delete” the Hornpipe off our registration if it is indeed a dance. But if it is a sandwich, can I get it without mayonnaise?

- The kids entered our dog, “Baudelaire” in your Feis as a joke. A thirty-two dollar joke. Please cancel his entry and refund my money. If you cannot refund the money, go ahead and leave him entered. Oh and by the way, he would be U14 in dog years.

The perfect wig for a statuesque dancer…

Ok, I'll be the first to admit things can get a little slow at any Feis...

Even at "The Worlds"

The Gospel Accordion to Zebadiah

“Why the pouty lip Bridget?” Marcie asked her obviously chagrined daughter who had wandered into the kitchen.

“Dad’s hogging Accordion Hero again!” Bridget lamented, adding with a rather disconsolate shrug, “I’m never gonna be a Feis musician”.

“BOB! Let Bridget have a turn once in a while!” Marcie yelled in a practiced voice just loud enough to cut through the din of the family room.

“Can’t stop now honey!” Bob gasped, struggling with the Xbox controller, “I’m in the middle of Dean Crouch’s ‘Reel Medley’!”

---

If you’ve read this far, you are now an unwitting participant in the second of a series of articles on Irish musical instruments titled “Irish Music 101 – The Accordion”.

The accordion (or hand-held, bellows-driven, free reed aerophone as it is often called) comes in a variety of forms, shapes, and sizes from which musical sounding noises are extracted by pushing buttons or keys and squeezing.

Lots of squeezing.

While a mainstay in a variety of music genres, the accordion has not received the level of respect one would expect of such a versatile instrument. To find out why, I interviewed a “primary source” of information on the subject of accordions, to wit, my daughter.

My daughter happens to be an accomplished musician who has twice competed in the Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann (pronounced Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann), which is essentially a Big Honking Irish Music Festival. She first graciously explained to me the taxonomy of humiliating terminology applied to the musically inclined at her high school. Band members are irreverently referred to as “Band Geeks”, and the String Orchestra members are flippantly called “Orch Dorks” (my daughter being one).

When I asked what degrading term kids might use to describe an accordion player, she thought about it for a few moments and thoughtfully responded, “Accordion Player”.

Wishing to expand my research, I then turned to my dog-eared copy of “The Idiots Guide to Hand-held, Bellows-driven, Free Reed Aerophones” to provide some additional insights and little known facts about this rather unique instrument. For instance:

• Famous “celebrity” accordionists include Richard Nixon and Idi Amin
• When dropped, the accordion is the only instrument that emits a sound similar to the noise of a flatulent cat being stepped on
• The first mention of accordion music comes from the bible: “And they cast him out into the desert for the sound was not pleasing unto them.” (Abominations 16:32)
• In a recent survey, thirty five percent of respondents cited lack of accordion classes being offered by their school districts in their decision to home-school their children
• Listening to accordion music is one of only two birth control methods condoned by the Catholic Church. (And 27% more effective than the rhythm method)

And the list goes on and on….

In truth, as a young lad, I myself played a distant cousin of the accordion called the melodica, which was basically a keyboard with a blow tube.

And it was because of the melodica that I became the first student to receive a three-day suspension at Corpus Christi Elementary School, in Levittown, New Jersey. Apparently the nuns did not think playing the second stanza of “Tantum Ergo” using my nose to blow the melodica during a Lenten observance was as witty and charming as one would think.

The Corpus Christi Elementary School Melodica Marching Band (comprised of me and a strange asthmatic kid named Leo) gave concerts at local nursing homes over Thanksgiving and Christmas. Leo would immediately begin coughing and wheezing while I belted out a rather irreverent version of “O Little Town of Bethlehem”.

After one of our bedside recitals, a rather emaciated octogenarian stretched out his withered, trembling hand towards the nurse and in a whispered voice gasped, “I’m not afraid of dying now”.

---

“How are you doing on the Accordion Hero, Bridget?” Marcie asked checking in on her daughter after dutifully banishing her husband from the family room.

“Great Mom! But this Lawrence Welk guy is kicking my butt!” adding, “Lady of Pain is hard!”

“Spain,” Marcie corrected, “Lady of Spain.”

“What?” Bridget mumbled somewhat distracted, her fingers quivering on the controller trying to keep pace.

“Come to think of it, maybe you’re right,” Marcie thought to herself.