Bootleg Pony: Piped In

In the spirit of a popular front against the forces of anti-poniness, the Anarcho-Syndicalist Pony Liberation Front (ASPLF) has allied with more mainstream pro-pony forces to bring you an officially sanctioned Bootleg Pony.

As for your author ? Well, the subject of my Scots roots has come up lately, and ranged from nicknames to the inevitable kilt questions (“Well ?”) to a sporran-and-kilt reunion of sorts with our own outstanding climatologist stormchaser. One thing that comes to my mind is the love-hate relationship Scots themselves have with aspects of their own culture. For example, do you choose to say someone’s “strangling the cat,” (no, not that …) or playing the pipes ? Myself, I love the bagpipes. Never learned how to play but given their skill with wind instruments I have some hopes for my kids (actually I think the youngest will skirl, the middle one’s more of a Highland dancer.) But pipes, hmmm, different things come to mind.

What constitues “good pipes” ? Well, if you want to range a little more broadly, it’s hard to get better pipes than the Divine One had, the Michael Jordan of jazz voices (no — Mike was the Sarah Vaughan of basketball):

Of course, different cultures have their own pipes too. I like the Galician and Northumbrian ones a lot. This ? Ehhhh … not so much. But like my eldest he’s from Romanian stock and you might recognize the tune from a certain Tarantino flick:

The bagpipes themselves of course can be subject to misuse … ’cause, really. Dude :

This is more what I had in mind (sound’s a little poor, but they raaaawk) :

Or, if you want to go old-school as I sometimes do:

But on matters Scottish, I save the final rebuttal to Robin Williams for the pride of Govan, one of Glasgow’s very finest. Yer ladies and lairdships: Mister. Rab. C. Nesbitt.

Wha daur meddle wi’ me, Jimmy ? Awa wi’ yeh, yeh chavvies.

So, knock yourselves out with poniness. Me, best be off, Ahm blawin’ fer tugs.