… the first time I ever wore a kilt was when I was sixteen years old… a newly arrived lad from the slums of Dockland Govan in Glasgow to the idyllic Hebridean Island of Mull, tucked in there just across from Oban in the Scottish Western Highlands… that first kilt was a helluva lot slimmer than the current version I sport nowadays, fifty years later… sum’where along the way back then, I’d been cajoled into learning how to sing in Gaelic (didn’t take much arm-twisting, truth be told), allocated a couple of LUVLY schoolteaching ma’ams, one for the Celtic music and one for the Gaelic language, in order to enter the annual local competition, singing in the tongue of the Gods, in what’s known as the Gaelic Mod Festival… I seemed to wear both the kilt and the singing of the language with relative ease, winning…
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