Where did she go?

Sometimes in life you have to listen to your surroundings.  You may not want to, you may try to close the door, lean against it and cry out "I DON'T WANNA" like a child in order to lock out the rest of the world.  There are times in life when you just can't do that.

I'm knee deep in one of those times right now. 

My father is ill. Not to mince words, this is the kind of ill you don't recover from.  This is not new information, but here lately every week there is something new to worry about.  I have to do this from 650 miles away.  The stress is showing it's signs - take for example 3 root canals in 8 days you may have read about.

I want to learn the bagpipes.  I truly do.  I also don't want to disappoint - myself, the people I've talked to about this journey or any of you.  But right now, I don't think is the right time for me to do this.  I find so much joy in the concept of the pipes and the vision of seeing me out in a field.  Today as I packed up my things at work after an arduous day, I heard myself say, "I have to go to class tonight", not "I WANT to go to class tonight".  Why do I have to go to class?  Because I committed to, not because I've improved a stitch since the last class. I've gotten a number of practice sessions in during the last two weeks and I find my patience with myself isn't what it should be.  I think this is the universe saying to me, "Yes, this IS for you, but not for you RIGHT NOW."

I need to listen to this so I don't feel that piping is a "must do" but a "want to do".  So at this time I think I need to step away and try it again once things settle down.  I have all the tools, I know all the amazing people, I have your support, but right now I can't handle it.  Pipers and friends of pipers, being a unique group of unbelievable people, I know that you understand.

I'll be back, I assure you.  I hope that you will accept me when I'm ready to return.

Railroad Piper: I'm listening, always have been.  You make me smile every time I hear you.  Thank you.

And away we go!

Class tonight was good.  Very good. 

Honest truth?  Today at work was grueling and driving home I couldn't imagine getting through the class awake.  Now, here I sit an hour after being home and I don't know how I'm going to fall asleep.

Most of my time was spent with the head instructor who is part puppy dog and part drill sergeant.  He reminds me constantly that there is nothing to be nervous about with this sweet smile.  Then goes into, "look at your hands!  What do you think you are doing with your pinkie?" followed by, "Don't look at your hands!  You can't see them when you are on the bagpipe, don't get used to looking at your hands!" seamlessly flowing into, "Look at your fingers!  They are pointing down and that's why you are squawking.  Look at them!  They are fingers, not claws!"  At this point I wanted to bust out laughing but I can't because he's so serious. 

On to the next exercise and half way through I paused to heave out a huge amount of unspent air and gulp in fresh.  He looked at me with a smile and sweetly said, "Yes, breath, Cate.  Very important.  You can't practice the bag pipe if you are passed out on the floor with a concussion."

Like every other piper I have met in this cult, he is a remarkably kind man with a fantastic sense of humor and his heart on his shirtsleeves.

The configuration of the class is interesting - different people from the band come to help teach and they are paired up with different sets of students at different levels of skill.  At one point the head instructor had to move to another student so I was paired with another teacher, a sweet tiny woman who was a music teacher and we talked about some questions I have from my musical past that puzzled me about the pipes.  She cleared many of them up and then pointed out the obvious: women pipers have tiny fingers compared to the men, thus we have to be twice as accurate to cover the holes.  Huh, interesting.  I'd best order my copy of Rhythmic Fingerwork sooner than planned.

Tonight's emphasis was on grace note scales, triplets and the D throw. 

The best quote of the night?  From the head instructor: "Even with where you are right now, you are 99% better than the world population on playing the pipes.  Where you are right now, each of us have been so it only gets better."

Perspective.  There ya have it.

What is your... quirk?

Tanya brought up a very good point.  As people who want to learn an instrument that can be heard for a 1/2 mile, we all likely have odd hobbies.

So what do you do when you are not piping, doing your job, searching the internet about information about piping, practicing your chanter at stop lights or trying to figure out which is the best reed for you?

To make us all feel normal, let's list off some of favorite past times. 

Mine: Quilting, reading, blogging, and working on my house.  Random dance moves in the living room when now one can hear the music.  Masters degree student.  Code writing in Visual Basic for kicks.  Gardener.  Cook for those who need a meal.  Workaholic.  Generally speaking, my hobbies are quiet, this seems to be my "HELLO WORLD, I'm here" hobby.  I'm going to do it loud and I'm going to do it proud.

What do you do when you aren't piping?

Class Starts Thursday - I need to get on this....

So in every possible way, I've let life get between me and piping. 

Some of these things were unavoidable, some of these things were decisions I made to make my life easier down the line and I am glad I took that time.  But the fact of the matter is that my classes start this week and I need to be better about the slop than I am now.  There is no "make up" in learning an instrument.  You can't do a mad dash on Sunday to make up for the lack of practice you didn't do the last week.  You simply must...

Practice with purpose and move on from there. 

Okay.  Game on.  This is turning into a fantastic game of "forgive thyself."

So I didn't practice today... or Friday.

I'm not afraid to admit that Saturday's practice wasn't all that and a bag of chips. Suffice to say it was a rough start to the weekend.

I have, however, gotten something done that has been hanging over my shoulder for a while now that I really, really didn't want to do but it simply wasn't going to do itself.  It's not done, but with a boat load of wine I have a final product that is passable if not the perfection I wish to attain.  A few more passes now that the band-aid has been ripped off and I'll get there.  But the hard part is done.  Win column. 

On the lighter side of things, I'm a piper-wanna-be, I'm a quilter and I strive to be that crazy cat lady.  One would think that those are all unilateral aspirations.  Having all three would be a rather odd brew - or so I thought until my boyfriend came to my door with the following present:

That's right.  A hand stitched pincushion he found on Etsy in the shape of a cat who is playing the Great Highland Bagpipe.  I imagine this woman sitting at her favorite sewing spot thinking, "someone is going to LOVE this.  I can't imagine WHO... but someone..."

Well, that someone would be me.

No matter how crazy I think I am, my boyfriend can make me feel completely normal.

Also understanding what I've been through the last number of days, my dear sweet Good Sir took me to the Renaissance Festival today to take me away from all my cares, my sorrows and walk down a joyful path of a great time in my life.  While there, we had the opportunity of seeing not once, but TWICE this fantastic flock of pant-free fellows:

Yep, my boys Tartanic.  Two Pipes, two drums and two lovely ladies.  Near front row seats both shows, both fantastic.  One might start to feel sorry for Good Sir, but he introduced me to the music of Tartanic and then took me to a festival where there were 150+ pipers ready and willing to teach me.  So this whole piping journey is really his fault.  These are things I probably wouldn't have experienced without him. 

Thus today I am just grateful. 

We are not alone here

This morning as I waited for a reasonable hour to begin my practice, I curled up behind my trusty laptop to find some other really great blogs on learning the bagpipes:

http://blueliner44.blogspot.com/
This is the story of a piper who started his instruction in February and has come a very long way in such a short time.  I'm a little jealous of his progress!

http://www.learningthebagpipes.blogspot.com/
This is the blog of another piper who has brilliantly recorded his early sessions to watch his progress over time.

It's good to know we're not alone in our quest to learn the pipes, and I found them to be motivational to help get me back on track after my Dental Drama.

So today I have done the very thing that Railroad Piper warned me about on day one: the more time you spend on the internet researching Piping is less time you spend practicing!  Thus I'm keeping this short to go curl up behind my practice chanter.

Practice Records

Back in Jr. High School, my instructor used to make us keep practice records signed by our parents weekly.  Part of your credit in class was filling out those silly records, having Mom or Dad sign them and then turning them in.  No matter how good you were, you could not get an "A" in band without turning them in.  I hated them.

I had no problem with practicing.  Practicing was my place to go and hide from reality.  I'd go to our basement, curl up behind my Manhasset and the next thing you know in my mind's eye I was playing with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra or performing a solo in front of my own band at a concert.  I'd emerge from the basement hours later when Mom would call to inform me that dinner was ready, it was time for bed or my personal favorite, "Dad has a headache and would REALLY like you to stop for today, please!"  I suspect it was never my father who had the headache but my mother who was tired of hearing me woodshed a particular phrase.

What was particularly strange about those days is that I would lie on my practice records. I would put down 30 minutes to an hour of practice every day instead of the multiple hours I was really doing.  I would plop my practice record down at the end of the week for my mother to sign and see the 5 hours I logged for the week - not just what I did on Monday.  She would ask why.  Every week I told her, "The Director wouldn't believe me if I told the truth."  My mother would grudgingly sign it - right up until I learned how to forge her signature.  It was an ugly day when she found out that I was doing that.

Now as I return after my tooth-ridden-hiatus to the chanter, I want a practice record.  Though this isn't something I have to turn in for a grade, I want something that keeps me on task, forces consistency and asks me to explain days that I miss.  Something to prove to my own self what I am doing to accomplish this goal.  I'm still far from being a piping addict, seeing myself in kilt performing in front of Ren-Festers galore.  I'm just a girl with a practice chanter attempting to not slaughter the pass between right hand and left who needs to put the time in to get better at this.  Practicing with purpose will help me attain that goal.  I created one, in Excel, that is effectively a practice diary.

So tonight was 30 minutes of the scale - low G to high A at a 4 point note at 60 beats per minute.  Over and over and over again.  I logged my time start and logged my finish time.

Even though it was only 30 minutes I felt like I accomplished something. 

And maybe, just maybe my Jr. High School Director had a method to her madness.

Who knew?

Ha Ha!

I will see your triple root canal and raise you one iron will.

Alright Chanter....

... You've had more than a week off.  I hope you enjoyed your vacation.  I'm back.  Let's do some scales, shall we?

She wipes the dust off her chanter and says, "ok, good.  Clearly you haven't been practicing without me."

The Root of All Evil

Good news!  We found it!  It's been hiding in my molar all this time.  Who knew?

It has been safely killed and disposed of by trained professionals.  I'm planning a big party for when World Peace is achieved in the near term.  I will start preparing my speech right now.

8 days, 3 root canals (two on one very complicated tooth).

This is supposed to be a blog about piping, not a blog about dental problems. 

I miss my scales and the comforting "tick tock" of my metronome.

A Tale of Two Root Canals...

Well, my root canal last Thursday was such a resounding success that I decided to go in and have another one yesterday.  Two root canals in under a week.  Unlike my experience Friday post-root-canal, today I have been curled up on the couch gumming my way through vegetable beef stew... not with great joy but merely a need to eat.

Thus right now my chanter sits lonely on my music stand with my boyfriend having played it more in the last few days than I have.  No, this is not an evil plot to get him hooked and learning to play, too.  Though... now that I mention it....hmmm....?

This is temporary and soon I'll be back telling tales of scales and grace notes with reckless abandon.

In the meantime, I offer you this fantastic piece from Tartanic:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOOukoj0AQo

I can't wait until I can play that.

Bacon

Happy international bacon day!

Ironic...

The root canal was an amazing success!  Not only was it completed in under two hours, he was able to do the entire clean out and fill the tooth on the same day.  My jaw pain is gone, the headache is gone and aside from being tired, I feel great.  I have a fantastic dentist.

So today as I prepare to return to the pipe (Bagpipe Practice Chanter, nothing drug related...) Lifehacker puts out a very nice piece on how to optimize your practice sessions.  It takes what my instructor said about "Practice with Purpose" and expands on it.  It's a good read for us newbies as well as those who've been at it for a bit.

http://lifehacker.com/5939374/a-better-way-to-practice

Stuff. Ya like stuff?

I sit here the nervous dental patient awaiting the next 10 hours to come and go.  The last week I have been absolutely exhausted from the discomfort from my tooth and yesterday I drank in excess of 9 cups of coffee just to stay awake at work.  Today I lost count somewhere around #6 in the afternoon (I normally drink 2 cups a day).  A few hours ago I was having trouble keeping my eyes open during a heated game of Rummikub.  Now when all I have to do is go to sleep, wake up and have a root canal? 

I AM SO AWAKE!

Here I am, unable to sleep, unable to practice and really done searching for interesting piping websites (there are many out there, no?) wondering what to do with myself.  So I figured I’d tell you a little more about my non-Piper Girl life.

How I pay the bills:  I’m a jack of all trades Market Analyst for an automotive OEM in Detroit.  I’m very lucky in that I like what I do, I like the people I do it for and I generally agree with what my organization is trying to accomplish. 

Where I live: I own a 73 year old house that provides endless amounts of entertainment in the form of repairs and upkeep.  I'm in the out-skirts of Detroit in a very cute community that I've enjoyed for over 10 years. Through this adventure I’ve learned a lot about plumbing, electrical, HVAC systems, roofing, tile and various other odds and ends of home ownership over the years.  I’m not afraid to grab a wrench, drill or duct tape and get ‘er done.

Hobby #1: Cooking.  And not just ordinary day to day cooking (actually, I hate that).  I love the big, the extraordinary, the “this will get them talking” over the top kind of cooking.  I have a microwave simply to melt caramel and hold my knife block.  One of my favorite sports is going out to eat at new places and dissecting their recipe with my tongue.

Hobby #2: Quilting.  I love the pull of the needle and thread on a cold winter night in front of a warm toasty fire.  Making quilts is like making a hug that can span over miles.  I curl up Schroeder style in front of a hoop and let the needle rock me into a place of Zen while listening to a book, “watching” tv or just enjoying the echoing sounds of silence.  In case you are wondering, yes, I am only 39.  I've been quilting for 17 years.

Hobby #3: Master’s Degree Student.  I’m slowly working on a Master’s Degree and find that place of “student hood” to be a great place to run and hide when reality gets to be too much and I need to throw on some blinders.  It’s remarkably effective.

Hobby #4: Now I'm a piperwannabe.  I'll let you know how that goes.

That’s me in a nutshell.

Piper Girl: 0, Bad Tooth: 1

I came home from work today to find the cats arduously working on a project.  They had assembled a stick, some string and a plain white kitchen towel in the living room.

“Human with opposable thumbs who provides sustenance!” called my youngest (Button) when I arrived on the scene.  “You must tie that towel to that pole.  Do it. Do it.  Do it NOW!”

“For simplicity, you can call me Mom.  Ummm, why am I doing this?” I asked as I crouched down and began tying knots.

My eldest (S.A.M.) looked at me sheepishly and said, “We need a flag of surrender for when you are killing the duck.”

I walked over to my practice chanter and picked it up, “You mean when I’m practicing?”

They jumped back, arched their backs and hissed.

“Well, my supportive felines,” I said as I sat on the couch, “you have a reprieve.  Until Friday.  Remember yesterday after practice when I curled up on the couch holding my jaw?  I need a root canal and it’s scheduled for Thursday.”

“Oh, thank God,” said S.A.M., purring against my leg.  “What are we going to do between now and then?  Quietly read a book?  Watch TV?  Learn to knit?"

"You know," I said to the assembly, "Generally when one speaks of a root canal, they get sympathy and understanding of the pain that is involved." 

The single tracked minded Button looks at the half made flag and says, “Yeah, so “MOM”, about that flag we’re gonna need….”

Our Blog

Today's post isn't about me.  Today is about you.  I want to hear your story.

All you need is a gmail or a blogspot account and you can post here.  Simple request, this is an attempt to reach out to other pipers so that I know that I'm not alone.  So please, no negative commentary on other pipers as there shall be no awkwardness or negativity in Piper Girl's Zone.

Please share your triumphs, your tribulations, your success and your failures when learning the pipes.  I am particularly interested in the "ah-ha" moments you have had that turned you from a Practice Chanter Practitioner to a Piper.  That moment when you KNEW.  If you are struggling with something, I'm sure there is someone out there who's had that same problem and can help you fix it.  If you are thinking about starting the pipes and stumbled upon this blog in your research, let us know.  If you are frustrated about something that is causing you not to practice, let us know that as well.

All I ask is that you keep it positive with respect to others and tell me what country you are from at the end of your post.

Enjoy...
Piper Girl Cate

The Questions...

Since I started my Adventures in Piping, I’ve gotten many questions from friends, colleagues and pretty much anyone who will sit still long enough for me to gleefully tell them that I’m learning to play the bagpipes.

About playing:

“When do I get to hear you play?”  I don’t know.  I’ve been playing for a solid two weeks.  It’ll be a while yet.

“Are you going to start playing with Railroad Piper?” I’d love to, when I’m good enough.  It’ll be a while yet.

“How much do those things cost?” I don’t know as I haven’t bought one.  I have a practice chanter that was really quite reasonable and a teacher who hasn’t heard of inflation since the 1980’s, so thus far it’s been a really cheap hobby.  As for buying pipes?  It will be a while yet.

“Can you play that song, you know… dum dum da dum di da da…”  Scotland the Brave?  Um… No.  It’ll be a while yet.

“Are they awkward to hold?” I don’t know.  I haven’t actually touched one.  It’ll… be… a while… yet….

 Crazy Cat Lady related:

“Do they make earplugs for cats?”  Regretfully, no they don’t.

“How are your cats taking this?”  One runs and hides, the other sits in front of me and sings along (or she’s yelling, “WHY GOD WHY?” I’m really not sure).

“Do your cats hate you?” Actually, the younger one has taken to more cuddles since I started this.  I suspect he is thinking, “okay, the longer I sit here and purr, the longer it will be until she goes back to trying to kill that duck I can’t find.”  Regardless, everybody wins.

“Do you hate your cats?” What kind of question is that?  I love them.  They support me completely.

General Commentary:

“You know, some people take up drugs or buy expensive cars when they get older.”  Oh, good to know.  Thanks.  Anything you’d care to share?

“You are pretty much trying to guarantee that you’re never getting married again, huh?”  Oh, yeah, THAT’s the reason I’m never getting married again.

“You know there’s some weirdo who plays at lunch.”  REALLY?  You are the judge of “weirdo”?

“Yeah, someone took up bagpipes in my neighborhood a few years ago.  Home values dropped like pancakes.”  Oh, yeah, blame the piper, not the overall economic condition.  Nice.

“Those things are hideous.”  Well, I never liked you anyway.

“Those things are awesome!”  I think we can be very good friends.

So if you are reading this and trying to decide to take up the pipes, there will be questions and commentary that range from inquisitive to insane.   Oh, and it’s addictive, be prepared for that.  But it absolves you of the need to take up drugs or buy expensive cars as you age. 

2nd "Official" Instruction

Tonight I had my second official private lesson with Railroad Pipers Pipe Major.  I felt a bit like I was 10 again with "slow down!", "you must learn to walk before you run!", "WAY TOO FAST!"  and so many things I learned in my youth.  The lesson is universal and can be taken to all things in life.  This is not what you want to hear when you can see yourself crossing the finish line in the Boston Marathon but in reality only recently learned that shoes are, in fact, a pretty brilliant idea. Though I felt like I was going slow, I was not going slow enough.  Right now what I need to do is learn the new muscle memory and learn it right.  Practicing a thousand times doesn't mean anything if you practice it wrong.  As the Pipe Major says, "Practice with Purpose."  This is not the first time I've heard this.

We talked about the "Zen of Piping", and how important it is to become one with your pipe (I know there's a dirty joke in there somewhere...).  He talks of this when he sees me getting flustered when my fingers don't go where I plan them to go.  Evidently, I'm not his first rodeo.

He's right, and this takes time.  I'm willing to give it the time, but I'm ready to be THERE.  I know how that feels - I felt it with my flute.  I know I need to give it the time and LOVE the arpeggio's and the grace note scales.  There was a time when the mundane practice gave me so much pleasure and comfort.  After a long hard day I could just pick up my flute and drift into a happy place with nimble fingers, strong breath and a basic scale.  It was those very things that made me good and made my flute become an extension of me.

There is a part of me that wants to go into the basement and pull out my old trusty Gemeindhardt and run some scales just to feel that again.  I did this one day a few years ago and after a few minutes I could still go to that place in my mind where it was just me, my music stand and my parents basement, though the house I grew up in was sold many years ago.  Thus, my Gemeinhardt would be a taste of the forbidden fruit and probably cause much more harm than it would solve. 

Would it feel good?  Yes.  Would it be satisfying?  Hell yes.  Should I do it?  No.  It would only serve to scratch that proverbial itch, and anyone who has ever scratched an itch that has turned around to bite them in the rear can attest, it's not worth it in the long run.

So it's going to be me and my McCallum patiently abiding.

Herumphumph.

History

I struggle with the idea that this instrument is much like a recorder or a fife.  It's relatively basic.  Cover holes, get the sound.

Not so much.

Dear Inventor

Dear Inventor of the Highland Bag Pipe,

Would it have killed you to put a thumb guard on this instrument to give you a clue where to hold your right thumb and reduce the mystery?

Just sayin'.

Kindest Regards,
Your student.

And just when I get started...

Life has gotten busy with outside events so I haven't been able to practice as per my plan.  I knew when I started along this journey that this week would be challenging for getting my time in.

What I find strange is that though my practice right now is basics and I still find the hand position awkward, I miss it.  I've only had my chanter for 8 days, and of those I've only been able to work with it 4.  Today I found myself practicing scales and arpeggio's on my steering wheel driving home.  I have heard that some practice with their chanters when stuck in traffic, but I'm far from there.

I also realize that I need to find a dedicated spot in my basement for practice.  The few moments I have had this week to pick up my pipe I've also gotten side tracked on other things.  Granted, my mind has been going a mile a minute with other things, but I think by creating that space I will also cleanse my mind when I walk into it.  Tomorrow I will set up my space with my chair, my music stand and my metronome.  No phone, no computer.

I suspect this will help me get my basement organized because if I'm having a bad day with practice I will blame it on the chaos of the basement, do some organizing and go back to the pipe.

Really, everybody wins.

Practice, Practice, Practice

This is the frustrating time of musical training.  Muscle memory isn’t there yet, everything is awkward and with the chanter you have the added bonus of it sounding a wee bit like a dying calf. 

All those fantastic bagpipers you have heard - be it at a wedding, festival or even a rock concert - have all started exactly where I am now.  Dale Carnegie teaches to Begin with the End in mind, and I see myself out there in a field playing a bagpipe like it’s an extension of my body… I just need to get from here to there. 

My teacher was very clear: Scales, you can do scales now, nothing else.  Not until I can do a perfect scale 20 times in a row am I allowed to consider an arpeggio and the pipers version of Mary had a Little Lamb (The Brown Haired Maiden) is absolutely out of the question.  Having studied music extensively in my youth, I completely understand where he’s coming from.  They are fantastic musical training, but boring as sin.  With all other instruments I’ve played there are multiple octaves.  Even the simple scale could be switched up a bit - not so with the pipe.  You don’t notice it when the experts are playing, but the pipe only goes from low G to high A which provides the range of exactly 9 notes, thus two scales (G & A) are at my disposal to study.  You also don't "tongue" (thus stop the sound briefly while your fingers catch up), which is normal on a woodwind, thus there is no margin of error for fingering technique.  So during this awkward time I’m forcing myself to ½ hour of practice minimum a day, longer on weekends and “good” days.  I shall set my timer on 30 minutes and my metronome on 60 and do scales.  Over and over.

I shall ignore the cry of the cats begging me to stop.  And yes, they are begging me to stop.

Also taping back into my musical training from back in the day, I know there are going to be good days and there are going to be bad days.  Sitting down today with my timer set and my metronome ticking, I figured today would be a bad day.  It was a rough day at work, I have a headache and my evening plans (post-practice) were called off due to events outside of my control.  I’m also still a bit sore from last night’s first lesson where I was taught to keep my wrists at an angle that is unusual for me.  I wasn’t wrong about today’s practice (it was awful), but I did it anyway.

Now that it is past me, I kind of feel the need to do it again.  Maybe I need to change the “end” vision.  Not a field, but on a beach next to the ocean. 

Yep, yep, that’s it.  Piper Girl, next to the ocean, rocking it out with relaxed wrists and nimble fingers.

Sorry friends, I’d keep writing, but I have to go practice my pipe.  A-B-C-D-E-F-G-A!!!!

New Beginnings….

How many times do we say in life, “One day I will (insert random goal here)?”

For some reason this week the Fates are asking me to jump into “one day,” and don’t seem to be taking “no” for an answer.  Okay, I’ll play.  Let’s see how this goes.

I’ve always said that “One day, I will learn to play the Great Highland Bagpipe.”  I’ve also said, “One day, I’ll start my own blog.  I will do it for me and not for anyone else.”  Both have been out there for some time, always comfortably nestled in that great space of time we call “one day.”  

Someone near my office practices their bagpipe on regular occasion during lunch hour near the train tracks.  I have actually gone on walks to find them, but as soon as I start getting close, they finish their practice session and would wander off leaving me to wonder, “WHO IS THAT MYSTERY PIPER?”  This person has often brought a smile to my face as I wander to hunt for lunch and a twinge of jealousy that they have accomplished a dream of mine: to have the courage to play the pipes.  At the office we have dubbed this person our "Railroad Piper," and this person has been a mystery to many who thought they were hearing things.

Last weekend I had the great fortune of attending the Highland Games in Livonia, Michigan.  At high noon on Saturday, the pipers took the field.  This enormous flock of people, marching in unison, playing together and each group wearing their own unique tartan caused every hair on my body to stand at attention.  I looked at my companion and said, “My teacher is in that field.  I am going to learn how to play.”  This stopped being “someday”.  It became “today”.  Throughout the remainder of the day I was distracted by the sounds of the pipes calling to me.

A few hours after the noon muster, my companion and his son were occupied in the task of making a shield project, so I chose to step away and find my teacher.  Around the corner were the tents of many different piping groups, probably about 150 pipers en mass.  Groups from all around Ohio, Michigan, even Canada.  I saw one tent that said, “Michigan Scottish Pipe and Drum.”  There was no telling where they were from, just Michigan.  They could be minutes away from me or hours.  I made a bee-line to that tent, and as I did so all the musicians formed a circle and began to play.  Less one.  One man stood alone as everyone else occupied themselves with warming up and one last practice before competition.
  

I stopped in front of this man and said, “Are you a Piper?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“How do you learn to play this?” I inquired.

Looking briefly stunned, he explained the process of learning the Great Highland Bagpipe.  I explained briefly my history and the fact that I have been taunted for years by the Railroad Piper.  He asked where I worked and told him.

Then he asked me if I worked near specific cross streets.  “Yes,” I said.

“Well,” he said.  “Your Railroad piper is me.”  

 So in a group of hundreds, I found the one person who I have sought for some time.

Really???

I immediately contacted the trainer Railroad piper indicated and throughout the week Railroad piper and I have been emailing back and forth, as have the trainer and I.

I will go into more detail about this later, but today my practice Chanter arrived and I had my first private lesson with Railroad Pipers Pipe Major.

Tonight I received an email from Railroad piper indicating that he is excited about hearing my journey into piping and his willingness to help me along that path.  And then he said something that made my head spin.

“You have a great writing style and when you start a ‘learning piping’ blog, let me know.”

Totally out of the blue.  The Fates are telling me, very clearly, today is the day.  I’ve been involved in blogs before but never for me, it was for other things. I’ve wanted to Pipe, I’m working on making that happen.  Now I'm going to blog about it.

So there you have it, my digital friends.  This is why I’m here and this is why I’m doing this.  I’m going to blog about becoming a Piper.  I am going to take two of those “one of these days” goals and turn them into one.

If you are willing to join me, I’ll take you with me on this journey.