I woke up the morning of the Burns Supper not knowing where I was. Coolgreany? Dublin? Belfast? Edinburgh? Glasgow? What youth hostel would have a Paul Funge painting on the wall?

As my head slowly cleared, I realized I was in the apartment of my Milwaukee friends, Tom and Nora. I had just returned from Glasgow the night before.

"Jet lag hit you hard!" Tom said, emerging from their bedroom. "We all took our beers out on the patio, and then we realized you weren't with us. We found you on the couch."

"Mmmm, nice, spongy couch," he added, doing his best Homer Simpson. Of course, the mmmm, beer had nothing to do with my falling asleep.

Tom drove me home, and I didn't do much of anything from then until the dinner. Instead of meeting my fellow club members at the Burns monument, I slouched in a daze in front of the TV, watching a movie about Burns' contemporary and "brother in misfortune," "Amadeus," for at least the fifth time.

At a bus stop, a burly Milwaukeean standing next to me told me, with an enthusiasm I would have sooner expected from a child, that he was on his way to the annual wheelchair games to raise money for muscular dystrophy. I thought he meant he was attending as a spectator. No, he explained--he was a contestant! I thought this was an interesting approach to the old "walk a mile in my shoes."

Fashionable East Sider that I am, I arrived fashionably late, but not too late for a drink. In the bar area of Klemmer's, Tony Palese was blowing a steady summer breeze of pipe tunes--including one of my favorites, "The Clumsy Lover"! Club president Linda Daly welcomed everyone into the dining hall, and former president Ian Scott presented the chain of office to her. Some contrasts were drawn between President Daly and President Clinton.

Neil Henderson gave a merry "Selkirk Grace," and then came the haggis! Tony piped it in with "Scotland the Brave," and Ian Day delivered a rousing "Address." The haggis was excellent, as was the meal that followed.

I've had the pleasure of sitting with a different group of people at each of these dinners, and by luck, it's always been a perfect combination of friends and strangers, making for some very good conversation. One discussion concerned April Fool's Day pranks played by radio and television stations, such as the news story that President Reagan was selling Arizona.

As everyone finished their dinner, Neil Henderson treated us to a Burnsian parody by Seiichiro Otsuka. Mr. Otsuka was the first Consul General of Japan to Scotland. He was stationed in Edinburgh in 1991. During his short stay in Scotland, he immersed himself in Scottish tradition, wearing the kilt, learning to play the bagpipes, and becoming a star attraction at Burns Suppers. He is now the Ambassador and Consul General of Japan in New York City. When he found out that Robert Burns had apparently never been inspired by Scotland's own game of golf, he decided to construct what might have happened:

Address to the Golf Ball
by Seiichiro Otsuka

Great Mischieftain o' the human race,
Weel are ye worthy o' a grace
As lang's you traivel straight.
Ye aim tae reach that distant hill
Nae bother tae play wi' skylark shrill.
The dinky dimples o' your saucy face
Should stay awa safe frae ills o' life,
The whins, waters, traps an' trail
That lie between us and our holy grail.
Ay ye sleekit, tyrannous, drunken beastie, gae straight!
Why the hell do ye gae left and richt?
Now don't squat there deep drowned in bunker
Like a stupid fried egg in stinker.
Poor devil, I'll gie ye one last chance
Tae be my trusty, couthy crony.
If ye wish tae prove yersel worthy o' my gratefu' prayer
For once, gae straight and get in there.
Amen, and grant me a day sae groovy
And a glorious-ever bonnie burdie.


The Herald, 27 July 1992

Neil followed this curiosity up with a song, "The Road to Dundee." Ian Day responded with Scotland's rival anthems, "Scots, Wha Hae" and "Flower of Scotland" (my vote goes to Burns and "Scots Wha Hae"), and then "Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation."

While Neil and Ian sharpened their bardic claymores, the Milwaukee Scottish Country Dancers showed us their fleet footwork, nimbly ducking Klemmer's chandeliers. It was sort of like watching a sword dance upside down.

Tony Palese returned then with a selection of pipe tunes. We had the good fortune to sit with another piper, who raved about Tony's playing, and politely answered everything we ever wanted to know about bagpipes (but were afraid to ask). I found out that the tune I constantly hear pipers in Milwaukee playing is "Jimmy Findlater," written by Gordon Speirs. We would have to wait to find later who Jimmy Findlater was.

Ian Day recited Burns' "Address to the Unco Guid," "Holy Willie's Prayer," and the bawdy "Tail Todle" with gusto, and Neil Henderson responded with equal skill, singing "The Banks o' Doon."

The evening ended with a group effort: "Auld Lang Syne," of course. There was some talk of going somewhere else to drink one more for the ditch, but most of us had to work early Monday, and I was out of steam anyway. I was indeed jet-lagged--but I could not have thought of a better homecoming.