Yesterday was Burns’ Night. The Tap Room had a special celebration complete with reading Robert Burns’ poetry and the presenting of the haggis. A crew of bagpipe players marched between the first and second floors skillfully entertaining us with Scottish tunes.

That reminds me of a story. One summer I worked at a Boy Scout camp. The staff members resided in one camp site. We had the luxury of electricity. Several staffers brought their stereos. They had a bad habit of playing them late into the night. One morning we all woke to a loud, high pitched wail. All of us ran out of our tents. I remember asking, “who’s skinning a cat?” A scout leader at a neighboring campsite was playing his bagpipes poorly. He was upset about the late night music and taught us a lesson about unwanted noise. Turned out that he was a talented player, but gave us a sample of what bad bagpipes sound like. The stereos got turned down at night.

I had the haggis. They served it with mashed potatoes and turnips. It was pretty good but definitely not something you will find at a chain restaraunt.

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Burns’ Night