Labor Day weekend 2010, four of us joined the thousands who flocked to the 145th Annual Scottish Highland Gathering and Games, in Pleasanton, California. We sweated and shivered alternately, according to the weather whim of the moment, but mostly we soaked in the wild and whacky scene, to the steady drone of bagpipes and smart drumming of competing bands from around the country.
I was giggling, gawking and omigodding as I tried to imagine my darling parents' comments had they been with me. Shaved heids (say heed, for head), tattoos, dirks (daggers) and swords of all kinds, from wooden toy ones to the steely sheathed ones, tartan and plaid galore swirled around us in a heady mix of Celtic bravado and California pagent-cult.
Along with the freedom of cross-cultural life in the USA, I celebrated the sight of young and old men alike dropping their pants in favor of wearing free swinging kilts. You could practically hear the collective sigh of cooling crotches above the cheerful ring of the sales register at the Utilikilts booth (www.utilikilts.com). Their slogan is simply "We Sell Freedom". Aye, and the lassies love a lad in a kilt let me tell ye. In the opinion of many of us, a more manly garb would be hard to find. The guys at Utilikilts (have the right idea combining the traditional kilt skirt design with army fatigue fabric in camoflage colors, adding pockets big enough to holster a wallet or a drill (guessing on this one) thus completely de-wimping the girlie-man fears some guys might have at the thought of having their johnnies going commando in a skirt.
I'm plotting a way to get my son to embrace the liberated loins notion, but with little hope, sad to say. The fact that the original role of gentleman-tough, James Bond, was played by Irish-Scot Glaswegian, Sean Connery, is unlikely to cut the mustard with him. He's more likely to google Sean's info and find out he's never had a fling with the kiltish thing and gleefully report the sad finding to me. A mother can only hope.
