Im an Uilleann piper, I had to give up the warpipes or highland pipes, after a run in with a large cist in my throat, which made playing the warpipes very painfull. The last time I played the warpipes, was at the funeral of a dear dear friend, a Campbell, who owned a Celtic bookstore in New York. The one thing about her which was not dear, though the way she did it was, was her cocktail party, each year on the aniversery of the rape of Glencoe. She kept a list in her desk drawer, of all the things the McDonnalds had done, leading up to that night, just in case any McDs might happen by the shop, I suppose, but on the night of the aniversery the list would come out, and she would pour a glass of sherry for all her friends. Then she would read the list, and after each item, offer the toast, they had it coming. Campbells have long, long memories. The other old debt she carried in her heart was Alister Crowely died oweing her father ten pounds. Any time his name was mentioned, she say, that wicked - wicked man. Most people assumed it was because the church had declaired him to be the anti-Christ. In fact, it was the ten pounds he owed her dad. All the best and niether a Campbell or MacDonnald Larry Otway