As some of you know, if a person makes a complaint about something or someone at a feis, he or she is able to file a formal complaint with the feis.
Normally one writes out the infraction and then includes
some nominal fee say, for instance, $10.00.
Now in addition to the irate parent I highlighted in my last post, it has come to my attention that another complaint was filed. Apparently one of the dancers didn't care too particularly well for one of the tunes I played for him. His formal complaint is that I played a reel tainted with Scottish influence. As this is a competition for traditional Irish dancers, he has charged that I impeded his ability to execute his dainty steps by not playing fully traditional Irish music. You can see my accuser pictured here.
As I said, at a normal feis one would just submit a check and a written complaint and the complainer would feel like he/she had been listened to and the feis would be satisfied with an extra $10.00. Well, this feis is just a smidge different. I had to leave the feis early on Sunday in order to catch my flight back to Chicago. Since the charges were not leveled until after I left, this feis's mechanism of justice began to turn in my absence. In short, they hold a trial. We're talking an epic affair, a Scopes Monkey, Inherit the Wind, hey there get me Atticus Finch sort of affair. Adding enormous gravity to the event is that it is presided over by the queen of the feis. A former World Champion Irish dancer, the feis queen oversees the proper order and running of feiseanna. At our right you can see the Feis Queen as she prepares for the trial, arranging her rare Faux Pearls (Sadly, she thinks Faux is a region of France known for its fine pearl-producing oysters) as her loyal subjects cower before her refulgent splendor.
Since I was not able to make it, the chairwoman of the feis was kind enough to assemble a crack legal team who would work at exonerating me. Sadly, Clarence Darrow and Johnny Cochran they are not:
So to make a long story short, the trial resulted in a guilty verdict. Now, if there is an upside to this verdict, it is that I have a choice in my sentence. I am either to enter into a six-year term of service on a spice trading ship OR I may accept one year of exile from the feis. I have duly accepted this latter option, accepting my exile to the Isle of Chicago where I will study German before returning to New York where I will resume the study of philosophy. Perhaps a year will give me time enough to consider the errors of my ways, a year before I will (hopefully, if asked back) play at the Feis at the Fair.
I seldom read blogs. Nor do I update mine any longer with regularity. That said, a post written over by Resident Theologian spurred me to ...
Over the last few weeks, I've begun to notice a common refrain from my Hebrew Scripture and New Testament students. Very often, they wil...
As I settled into bed last night, consoled and joyful at the beauty of the Vigil Mass, it occurred to me that what I most value in a homily ...
I had the occasion recently to chat with a former student whose family I've come to know rather well over the years. Our conversation r...