Sitting inside the band slash beer tent this St. Patty’s day absorbing all the sounds and smells it confirms it for me. The “it” in this case is I have to have Celtic roots. I am at home. I see faces of people I have never meet but nonetheless I feel I know most of them. The pair of Peavey DTH 4’s and 218’s speakers fill up sixteen hundred sq foot tent with traditional Celtic Jigs and Reels. Nice “background” music for me and my new friends and countrymen.
There’s a very eclectic mix of people here. Sitting next to us is a young man with dark, serious eyes under dark furrowed brows with his boxer’s showing. Dancing around with the children by the stage is a tween with high, sharp cheek bones probably from Asian ancestors. There are many children with heads full of red hair of varies degree of intensity.Their eyes are every shade and depth of blue one has seen. There is even a young man here with a bleached blonde spiked Mohawk. Nice.And yes there is Man in a kilt. I believe by law there has to be at least one at every Celtic event.And all are wearing something green to show unity.
We all to a person, no matter what we are doing, are swaying to the music. It doesn’t matter whether we are eating, talking, drinking dark amber goodness (well except the mother/daughter duo sitting in front us who are drinking a vodka laden drink) to the guy typing away on his PDA. With the music we are one.
Even though a word may not pass between us we are one. I feel very much I am home and I will enjoy it while it lasts.