There aren't any snakes up here in Alaska. At least that is what I'm told. So far no Catholic has claimed responsibility for having chased them out, either. You can walk through waist-high grass with confidence, knowing that no rattlesnake is going to get you. Your sleeping bag will never contain a snake, there are no blue racers to chase you away from the woodpile. Of course, there are bears in the waist-high grass, but there aren't any snakes!
The lack of snakes, and the fact that when it isn't covered in snow, Alaska is non-stop GREEN, means that we have more in common with Ireland than the rest of the US! Sure, we're a bit lacking in Irish folk, but over-enthusiasm can make up for that.
Last night a guitar player and I went down to a bar that, we were told, was owned by an Irish fellow. The owner wasn't there, but they were more than happy to turn off the juke box and give us room to play for tips. It was a small place, with about 30 well-lubricated patrons already there, some playing darts, some playing pool, and the rest smoking their lungs out (and ours) and doing their best to finish up the green beer. Green hats and beads were set out on a table for any and all to grab and wear, and a huge 8-month old English Mastiff named "Guinness," and wearing a green Guiness T-shirt, was wandering around in his huge, slobbery, happy way.
I got down to fiddling, the guitar player backing me up, and folks just loved it. I always forget how starved people are for live music. Of course drunk people always love you more than sober people, but still, I'm reminded of a commercial I saw recently, where a girl asks her dad to read a huge, gray book entitled "Zoning and Ordinances" as a bedtime story. The announcer says, "Art, are your children getting enough?" God I love that commercial.
These folks were definitely art-starved. We made decent tips, if you include all the beers they sent us! Luckily the guitar player is a big guy and could absorb mine as well as his, or I'd still be down there trying to be sober enough to drive!
What song did these folks like the best? Which one had them pounding on the tables and hooting?
"Scotland the Brave. "
Aside from being asked to play "Dixie," ("I'm sorry, I said, I'm an IRISH and SCOTTISH fiddler" and refrained from saying I didn't play racist theme songs) it was an enjoyable evening. Oh, that is, except for the cigarette smoke that threatened to choke me after about two hours. Today I'm paying the price with a migraine, had to Febreeze my Carhartt jacket, fiddle case, take another shower, wash my fiddle and guitar and Febreeze the amp....it's such a pain!
Yes, I had a good time but on the way home I had inklings that maybe I don't want to do any more bar gigs.
At least until next St. Pat's Day.
