First post from a new subscriber. I currently play the bodhran, but I have been wanting to expand into the world of “notes”. Since I love me irish and other music celtic sounding, the tin whistle seemed like a natural instrument to try.
I have this goal of trying out uilean pipes someday, as well.
Recently, I have been gathering a few like-minded individuals (a fiddle player and a singer) and we have been jamming together a few times.
When I bought a bass guitar, I sought out a forum for it to act as support. When I picked up harmonica, I found TWO forums for that. Playing that got me believing I really could learn those note thingies you blowers use.
But, mostly, I have been a drummer since age 10.
I am used to daft people, I ride motorcycle.
I picked up two books for harmonica, Irish and American Fiddle Tunes for Harmonica and Mel Bay’s Irish Melodies for Harmonica. Fun stuff.
Oh, I am going to pick up a fiddle for my birthday in August. Unless the Rebec I have a friend making for satiates that need. I am having a bout of Sudden Music Instrument Acquisition Syndrome, it appears.
I have heard pretty much every drummer joke that has ever been told on this planet. I have a pretty good sense of humor, but I like to pull a fast one on the joke teller. They tell the joke, and I just stare. I don’t blink. I just stare.
“I’m sorry, was insulting the instrument God told me play supposed to be funny?”
Okay, it is cruel of me, but I have gotten some of the funniest back pedaling from that response.
There might be some bodhran-specific jokes I haven’t heard, yet, though. Time on this board will probably fix that. A friend lent me her tin whistle until another friend of mine can finish making one for me. Daniel Bingamon is a talented guy. He makes all sort of instruments on request.
Well, I’m not penniless. But I am patient. I waited 8 months before buying my bass guitar, having done my research and pulled the trigged on birthday to buy the thing…while keeping within a budget.
I am not daft. I am normal. But, I have run into some rather daft riders of a certain two American word motorcycle company (rhymes with Hardly Driven ) about my 1990 Concours not being a “real” motorcycle.
I just roll my eyes and ask them how many miles a year they actually ride. If its at work, I ask them where their bike is…because mine is out there, and I didn’t see there’s.