Men In Kilts: A King Richard Band Adventure

The trad band playing on the bar, before us. 

It often occurs to me that I live a rather strange life. Not the visited-by-aliens-who-tell-me-to-wear-lederhosen-and-throw-cheddar-at-people kind of strange...just...odd. Sometimes absurd.

Take last weekend. St. Paddy's Day weekend here in the old US of A. Our band, King Richard, played Saturday to an enthusiastic (and unusually attractive, for some reason) audience of green-clad dancin' fools. With a quicker-than-usual turn-around, we had to set up at ten o'clock the next morning for a job that began at 5 PM that day -- on the actual St. Paddy's Day.

From the moment we took the stage, I knew the banshees, redcaps and sidhees has crawled forth, either out of the fairy earth or they had emerged from a woodland lake of Guinness and toadstools.