I’ve been feeling nostalgic, and thinking over all the marvellous unintentional insults I’ve received over the past few years. There are so many now that I feel they should be collected together in one blog post, to be admired. [Apologies to anyone who has seen some of them before in earlier posts.]
Folk Clubs
These are excellent places to pick up insults. Here is a selection:
‘I really love the tone of your instrument – but I’d very much prefer it if you’d play some beautiful music on it, like maybe some Chopin?’ – strange old man, after I’d just played some of my own folky-type compositions. I mean, I know I’m not as good as Chopin, but a) it was a folk club, and b) Chopin didn’t write for viola.
‘You obviously know each other very well…. in the Biblical sense, I mean!’ – leery drunk man to myself and performing partner
‘I love the way you play the violin. I’d really prefer to hear you play it on your own though.’ – drunk-seeming woman, unintentionally (or not?) insulting my choice in collaborators.
Folk club organiser, after a gig by a trio in which I used to play viola: ‘…I mean you’ve really got something going – you have one of the best concertina players in the country, an absolutely superb bodhran player, and a …. viola player who … knows what she’s doing …’
‘First there was Michael, playing his concertina… and then he acquired … satellites.’ – Folk club MC, apparently explaining the process by which myself and Sarah had invited Michael to join the band we had started.
‘You should make more of yourselves – I mean, dress up more on stage. You could be like the Corrs…’ – folk club audience member informing me that perhaps myself and Sarah should have worn short skirts and sparkly tops instead of t shirts and jeans and leather boots. And also that we should be on Top of the Pops, not in the folk club?
Busking
Possibly even better than folk clubs:
‘I’d put a quid in if you’d play something decent!’ – man grumpily putting 50p into my hat
‘You have to give the people what they want. Get some Beethoven going! No? Well, you’ll never make any money then.’ – a woman, putting £1 in hat.
‘Those instruments would sound excellent if you’d only play a little bit of Bach on them – but you seem intent on playing that Irish stuff, don’t you?’ – rather patronising passerby
Man: ‘What was that last tune?’
Me: ‘It’s called the Holtwood Reel and it was written by a fiddle player called Jess Arrowsmith.’
Man: ‘Oh I don’t think it was.’
Me: ‘I’m quite sure it definitely was.’
Man: ‘No, it was definitely something else.’
Later that same afternoon:
Same man: ‘Now that one had a delightful celtic lilt to it – what was that?’
Me: ‘It was an English tune called Three Around Three.’
Man: ‘Oh it’s “English” is it? Oh, well I’m not sure about that. I am a player, you know – I play in a group…’
Weddings
This one wasn’t directed at me, but I do wonder whether this man realised what he was saying:
Master of Ceremonies: ‘They say that love is a temporary insanity, curable only by marriage. Well, I’d like you to meet a couple who have been recently cured: please welcome … the Bride and Groom!’
