Well, I'm still trying to be Scottish. There's no Scottish blood in me at all, but this wig/beret thing gives you a picture of what I'd look like as a Scot. Charming, no?
So, as a quest to become as Scottish as possible without actually being Scottish, Deonn and I attended our second Highland Games of the season, this time on lovely Whidbey Island! This one was much smaller than the Seattle one (which takes place in Enumclaw), but it was kinda cool to have the laid back atmosphere. I did find out that my name belongs to the Clan Hunter. That's a stretch, if you ask me. I don't see how Hunt is related to Hunter at all... So, then, I tell my father the good news over the phone, and he says, "No, you're not part of Clan Hunter. The only Scottish people in our family are named Brockie." I need to look that up now. I liked the Clan Hunter tartan...
Look! I befriended another not-Scottish, yet trying to be Scottish person. Let's call him not-Scot:
On another note, Deonn and I managed to take some time out to listen to some bands. We really enjoyed this group from Seattle called Ockham's Razor. They had a very energetic sound with a total Celtic flair. They're not as hard as a Flogging Molly or Dropkick Murphys, but they play a mean beat and have great songs. We ended up buying their CD "Ten Thousand Miles to Bedlam". It's really good. Check them out on the web. I have hyperlinked their name.
If you get a chance, they have upcoming performances in the Seattle area at El Corazon and Kell's Irish Pub. If you like Celtic rock, you'll love Ockham's Razor. They ended their show with a rendition of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia". It was sweet. 'Nuff said. The fiddler, Katie, was highly skilled, and we chatted a little afterwards. She's really nice too. That's my shameless plug for the night.