I suppose as an Ayrshireman it would be remiss of me not to mention Rabbie Burns today of all days. Just on the off chance you’ve missed all the Scottish Government tartan flag waving that’s going on: today is 250th anniversary of his birth. Everywhere across the world folk that don’t know a damn thing about Robert Burns will be getting loaded up on Whisky and Haggis in some dingy hall and giving it laldy at a few of his more socially acceptable works. (Don’t mention the drinking, womanising or the masons.)
Now don’t get me wrong here. I’m not claiming that a celebration of the life of Rabbie Burns should be kept for folk from Ayrshire alone. In fact it’s fair to say that the closest that he ever came to the Irvine Valley was when he dropped off the manuscript for the Kilmarnock Editions. From there he more or less jetted off into high society in Edinburgh before retiring to Dumfries and Galloway where he died in aged only 37.
Burns really didn’t have much impact on my part of Ayrshire, but his story and a few of his more famous works are taught in primary school there just the same. Like almost everyone that ever did anything of note he sort of bypassed it on the way to fame and fortune. Even Darvel’s most famous son did a runner as a teenager. As a result I’ve never really felt the weird sense of possession that a lot of people in Ayrshire feel towards him. I enjoy a lot of his work, and a lot of it remains as relevant today as it was during his lifetime, but his prolific works never really get the airings they deserve.
Burns was a prolific writer throughout his life with hundreds of poems, sonnets and songs to his name. Yet how many do people actually know? It’s very painfully obvious at times that nobody takes the time to appreciate his works. The worst example of this is probably Auld Lang Syne which half the world belts out at midnight on Hogmanay but I guarantee only the tiniest fraction of people even come close to knowing all the words. Tam O’Shanter and Holy Wullie’s Prayer often get an airing, and more rarely nowadays it’s possible to hear Scot’s Wae Hae.
So on this auspicious occassion I ask that you do the ghost of auld Rabbie a favour, and take a look at all his works. You might learn a thing or two from Ayrshire’s most famous son.
Happy birthday Rabbie Burns,
You son of Ayrshire by the turns,
Who wrote in verse in ages past,
Your words and lines are bound to last,
Down dusty corridors of time,
Till all our lives are gaun lang syne.
GreyKodiak 
0 Responses to “250 Years Lang Syne”