Who I Might Have Been !! What Else I Might Have Done !

 

When I was a lad all the little old ladies in my entourage were constantly patting me gently on the head  , asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Now since most of these ladies were devout Catholics and to please them I often answered that I wanted to become a priest............ which I almost did after spending 13 years in the Redemptorist Fathers' minor and major seminaries. ......However , the priesthood was not what the GREAT DESIGNER had in mind for me. Nevertheless , I knew one thing with both moral and metaphysical certitude ......... whatever my specific calling might be.........I wanted to work with different peoples of diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds........ to discover how they think , explain and needlepoint their universes ......... phenomena necessarily mirrored in the languages they speak. And that is more than likely the motivating reason underlying my choice of a long career in anthropological linguistics. And I have loved every instant of it too !

It is no secret that the older we get , the longer the road of memories behind us....... and the shorter the road ahead , the one taking us to the Great Encounter. I am well along that road at the present moment and often look back at other callings I might have answered to throughout my life. First of all I have always wanted to be a " seanchaí " or storyteller ....... grab folks' interest with gripping tales about the Grogach , Banshee , leipreacháin , Cluricaun , Fear Dearg , Fear Gorta , Púca , Dullihan , the Mellows and many more ..... all the fairies who populate the ephemeral and real world of the Irish people. Working on the Montagnasi language here in Québec I spent literally days upon days with the elder " Kayatnutshest " .....the storytellers or custodians of oral tradition....... who told me of the heroes and villains .... who inhabited both the real and spirit world ......... or in our midst , yet invisible ! Here are but a few of them. Kwekwatshew , Atchen , Wananawiw , Memintaiew , Meshapush , Tuhis , Tshakapesh , Ayahis , Tshihai , Papakahtshihkw , Maiati , etc I could easily write a book about each and everyone of these aforementioned individuals.

Another form of storytelling ...... at least in my books !.......is joketelling ! During my barfly days it was a well - known fact .......based on close observation....... that those bars where good quality jokesters hung out during Happy Hour drew big crowds and proved to be an asset to the barowners. I still remember my buddies Laurent Crépeault and Nils Gautier go at it back and forth , one feeding off the other for one or two hours non stop...... and folks just lapped it up and loved it.I would chip in now and then and get a few laughs but soon realized that I was in the presence of greatness.Over the years I did improve but just then along came retirement....... and my withdrawal from the bar scene followed soon after. 

Blessed with  a better than " fair to middlin " voice and musical ear I would have likewise loved to be a bard , roaming far and wide across the land performing while searching for  patrons to encourage and finance my artistc ambitions  ...... all the while accompanying my poems on harp or guitar. Well , I did learn how to play the latter .... not very well though ....but well enough to accompany myself or others in singsongs around campfires , at Christmas partys , birthdays , weddings , stage productions , etc I even won first prize for strummin' and beltin' out The One - Eyed Purple People Eater on board the Ryndam in 1959 somewhere between Montreal and Southhampton , England. LOL  

As I look back now with matured hindsight I believe I was influenced by a "great unknown " or rather "greatly unknown " 18 th - century Irish bard by the name of Toirdhealbhach Ó Cearbhalláin , better known to the English - speaking world as Turlough O' Carolan. Although blinded by smallpox at the age of 18 Summers , Turlough managed to travel high and wide throughout Ireland .... from estate / manor house / castle to estate / manor house / castle  composing and singing ballads at the behest of his hosts and was rewarded in return with money , food and lodgings. Armed with a sharp wit , a melodious voice and a  "mean "harp  Turlough was both loved and feared by his host. If he treated the harpist well then Turlough would sing his praises whereas were he treated poorly Turlough would compose a catchy but scurrilous ballad about the host which would then spread like wildfire among the local gentry and population. One such incident comes to mind ..........

One weekend while performing for some  cantankerous rich old lady and her guests he was informed that the "good woman " had cut off his "open bar "privileges since he was known to be rather "fond "of  " uische  beatha " or the "water of life "! Undaunted  Turlough went down to the wine cellar where he confronted O'Floinn , the chief steward. O'Floinn likewise refused him so O'Carolan went back to the reception and composed a ballad about the man and his hostess. It's very long so I'll just give one verse.

Mo chreach , a Dhiarmuid Uí Fhloinn ,

Nach tú ar dhoras ifrinn,

Ós tú nach leigfeadh neach dod chóir ,

In áit a mbeitheá a 'do dhárseóir

What a pity that Hell's Gates are not kept by O'Flynn ,

So surly a dog would let nobody in !

P. S. I would also give my eye teeth to be able to play the fiddle !!