One year, having had a drunk fall onto a brand new set of Kintel bag pipes, shatering the chanter, I have been careful where I play on that ugliest of holidays... Well, just to show, you can't break the curse whatever you do... I decided to do my busking early, before most folks are TOO scuthered on the 16th, then, on the 17th, play a wee bit for our sober Quaker sisters and brothers after meeting at social hour. Well, having a host of things to do at the meetinghouse, I leave the Uilleann pipes under the book selling table, a coffee NO-GO zone at the meeting house, to run someone into the library for a moment..., what do I find this morning, but some sober Friend has spilt a cup of coffee into my pipe case, and the contents stink and are stuck together... now to put this in perspective, a set of Irish pipes, is a similar investment to a midsized new car. No permanent damage, thankfully, but the pipes now reeek! St. Patrick strikes again. Cheers, Larry