Last night was highly entertaining. I had a gig in Kallio, of all places. The Finnish Scottish Society, with whom I’ve made friends through an amusing series of events, were throwing a surprise birthday party for one of their members. The Scottish-Finnish lad was becoming a Finnish-Scotsman, ie. turning 18.

His family and friends had arranged for us to meet him at the metro station, which we did. He had no idea we would be there, some 20 of us, and that I would be playing the pipes. I marched us up the street, into the Musta Kissa, where whiskeys and haggis and excellent company ensued.

The street march was a bit rough, since it had started to sleet and my fingers don’t work as well as they used to, post-chemo, but it all seemed to go well. It was enjoyable to see the locals peering out through their windows as I marched past. At least one lady was clapping and cheering, which was delightful.

Mrs. Hatboy was in attendance as my official baggage handler, and our old pal Antti “Che” S came along having run into us at the shops earlier on. He’d never heard me play the bagpipes, never eaten haggis and was stunned and delighted by the whole development of his run-of-the-mill Friday evening into this bizarre festival of Scottish noise.

He also got a hat.

Many a pint was bought for me, and it was much appreciated. I played several more times through the night.

The birthday boy was also thrilled, and handled himself very well despite the mass of drinks he had pushed on him. Towards ten o’clock, he asked me if I might play one more time, on account of there was a young lady he would like to impress.

“Well that’s why I learned to play these stupid things,” I told him.

More photos as they come to light.

The Society want to make me their official piper, so with any luck there will be more of these excellent parties. We also ran into Lloyd, a nice fellow who runs a tea and scones and pies place. 2017 is going to be the Year of the Pie.

Mild hangover today, but not too bad.