A Highland Fling

Last night, my husband and I went to Bangor to see The Royal Scots Dragoon Guards. They are Highland pipes, drums and dancers. Women in the crowd actually cried when they heard them play a few of the more traditional tunes like Amazing Grace. I'm not the weepy type, but I do love to hear the pipes.

Now, Dragoons are a calvary unit, so when the man came out to introduce the band, he was wearing spurs that clicked on the concrete floor of the auditorium. The woman in front of me said breathlessly, "Oh, I do so love a man in spurs." It was all I could do from letting one of my famous belts of laughter out. I think my husband was proud that remained restrained (he embarrasses easy). I mean, what did she love about spurs? Was it the old cowboy adage of keeping his boots on even when making love? Or was it some other fantasy she had of the silvery stars on a man's boots? Many ideas flew through my mind, all of which were a bit risqué. I think what was most amusing was that she never once mentioned their bare legs under their tartan kilts!

The rest of the program was very good and the sword dancers were terrific. Lithe and limber men in flying kilts. All too short of a performance, though.