The Sassy Fiddle Girl

February 28, 2008 at 3:37 pm | Posted in Culture, Family | Leave a comment

Thanks to all of you who have been concerned about my well-being lately. I appreciate your sentiment and your encouragement. To wrap up my Mental Health Day I had an interesting night out last night with the fam and I wanted to share my experience.

Backstory: A few months ago my Big Bubba called to tell me that he wanted the whole family (Mom, Dad, Me, Hubby, Him, and Sister-In-Law) to go see the Celtic Women. Now let me just preface by saying that I do like the Celtic women and most things Irish except for Michael Flatley. Just like Chandlar on Friends, he scares the bejees out of me.

“His legs flail about as if independent from his body!”

 Exactly Chandlar, you said it. He is not normal!

Anyway, after some hemming and hawing Bro got me tickets to go as my Birthday present. (My Birthday is in June, not February) So, last night was the night. Hubby did not go, he would rather “be shot and left somewhere for dead.” Alrighty then.

We got there and waited and waited and waited. Apparently one of the Celtic Women was having a bad a hair day or something and kept an entire audience waiting for twenty or so extra minutes, but hey, I didn’t have to work the next day. Take your time! (Extreme Sarcasm) Some time later they appear and let me tell you it was a show of, well, enthusiasm and interesting antics.

As I sat there and watched these women prance around and sing, all I could imagine was what the rehearsals for this show would resemble with a stage director that must be just like Charlotte’s friend Anthony on Sex and the City.

 “Ladies, swoosh your skirts. No, I said GLIDE, and skip, yes two, three, four. Now frolic Chloe, I said frolic. That is not angelic, hold your arms like cherubs. Smile like your singing to your babies. MORE PINK LIGHTS!”

There is something wrong with me because the whole time I had to stifle my giggling as I imagined this behind-the-scenes rehearsal. Not to fear because that annoying Chloe, who I refer to as long sleeves Celtic Girl, giggled annoyingly enough for the both of us.


Another notable mention of the night were the drummers who seemed to be in a world of their own. These guys were into it. On two different occasions when they finished their songs they threw their sticks so hard they jetted over the partition and all I could think was, “How is he going into the next song without his stick?” My Mom assured me it “was part of the act.”


But, the enthusiasm award of the night would have to go to the fiddle chick. I call her Sassy Fiddle Girl. You know who she is. Bro informed me of her name. Not sure how he knew it. Apparently he knew all the girls’ names. Hmm.

Celtic Woman

This is Sassy Fiddle Girl. She is the one running around the stage like she has had one too many Red Bulls. She was the first of the Celtic Women to make her appearance in the bright spot light and the moment we saw her my mom and I both looked at each other at the exact same time and said, “She needs to put on a slip.” You could see right through her entire ensemble which consisted of a strapless top and a pleated skirt with the pleats cut right up to her thighs. I am guessing she preferred it that way. Interesting.

At one point she got so ahe-mm, enthusiastic, that she kicked one of her pleats up in front of her and onto her head where it stayed for a good 3-5 seconds. I kid you not. Sassy Fiddle Girl did not miss a beat though, oh no, she kept right on fiddling. And the crowd loved her. Grown men stood and clapped with her. Woman envied her. Little girls took her flowers at the end. She had that audience. She worked it. She was a blond whirlwind on steroids. I have never ever seen anything like it. She wore me out.

I need some of her stamina because due to the fashionably late start of the Celtic Women, it was a late night and this woman is exhausted and in need of her own Red Bull. It wouldn’t make me quite as sassy though.


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