I think … I am … does
not preclude us from morning
prayer of thank you
Last night was Robert Burns Night.
According to Wikipedia, Burn’s Night is when Scots eat a Burn’s Night Supper or the traditional meal of haggis, neeps (turnips) and tatties (potatoes).
Never had haggis.
Maybe never will.
Does anyone know if sheeps stomach tastes like bacon?
Haggis is just one of those things I doubt I will ever grasp.
I think the secret of eating haggis must lie in the what renowned Chef Paul Bocuse said in an interview you can watch on YouTube.
Chef Paul was asked when being a chef was the most fun.
“1946, 1947,” Chef Paul said, “People ate anything!”
The post World War 2 era in France and the over all lack of food and those French cooking dishes that were created helped me understand much about French post-war cooking.
That, I think, the amount of available food in Scotland, might explain Haggis.
As they used to say about Chicago, Hog Butcher for the World, “We use everything but the squeal.”
I, as I said, cannot grasp haggis and I also, truth be told, cannot grasp the poetry of Robert Burns.
Alistair Cooke, in his book/show, America, when writing about the word skills of Abraham Lincoln said, “We know that he steeped himself in the subtleties of Shakespeare, the cadences of the Bible, and the hard humanity of Robert Burns.”
Because of this line in the show which I watched when I was 12, I felt I needed to steep myself in the hard humanity of Robert Burns.
I just can’t get there.
Not sure why.
Wikipedia states, “Robert Burns (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796), also known familiarly as Rabbie Burns, the National Bard, Bard of Ayrshire, the Ploughman Poet and various other names and epithets, was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide.“
One of his poems starts out:
Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a pannic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!
I don’t see the roots of the Gettysburg Address here.
I remember reading about William Shirer (CBS Radio Commentator and author of “Rise and Fall of the 3rd Reich“) that he could never, ever understand the attraction of James Joyce until he was at a bookshop in Dublin and happened to catch a reading of James Joyce BY James Joyce.
I may have the reverse affect here as whenever I try to read Robert Burns, I imagine the Michael Palin/Monty Python sketch of a scots poet send up of Burns and it is all over for me and Mr. Burns.
But listening to London Radio, I am made aware of Burn’s Night.
Which brings to mind the famous Selkirk Grace.
Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.
Which, in english, says:
Some have meat but cannot eat,
some have none that want it;
But we have meat and we can eat,
So let the Lord be thanked.
And the last line, And sae the Lord be thankit, got me to thinking about giving thanks.
And thinking about giving thanks got me to thinking about this clip from the movie, St. Vincent.
Cannot watch this clip or even think of this clip, that I do not feel better.
I like the IT Crowd.
I like Moone Boy.
Chris O’Dowd, in this 90 second moment, does his best work from the movie St. Vincent.
The way he rolls with the classroom and maintains control reminds me so much of the way so many of my teachers rolled with me in class and still kept control.
I take my hat off to them and thank God for their presence in my life at that time.
God, Thank You.
For those teachers.
And for so much more.
Neither here nor there, but Katherine Parkinson’s (IT Crowd) jaw dropping performance in the movie, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society made my jaw drop.
Yes I know, O’Dowd is Irish.
No Haiku For You 