Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Culture Clash Wedding on the Food Network
Dinner: Impossible is a program on the Food Network featuring chef Robert Irvine. In late January they filmed an episode at Kirkland's Woodmark Hotel called "Culture Clash Wedding".
Bride Kim Miyake and groom Shawn Zook had planned a June wedding, until they found out Kim's father had terminal cancer; so they moved the wedding up. KING' TVs lifestyle reporter, Kelly Moore was the planner for the event and coordinated all the elements including the Food Network connection. Kelly contacted me to play the pipes for the processional and recessional. It was quite a memorable wedding for me to play, given the situation with Kim's father and all of the goings on with the TV taping.
Food Network aired the show 4 times between April 30 and May 7, and often repeats shows. Here's a link you can check for any updated scheduling http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/show_ie/episode/0,,FOOD_28496_56369,00.html
The show is really all about the planning and execution of the amazing Asian/Celtic dinner, but I'm on it for about 3 seconds. Don't blink or you'll miss me!
Bride Kim Miyake and groom Shawn Zook had planned a June wedding, until they found out Kim's father had terminal cancer; so they moved the wedding up. KING' TVs lifestyle reporter, Kelly Moore was the planner for the event and coordinated all the elements including the Food Network connection. Kelly contacted me to play the pipes for the processional and recessional. It was quite a memorable wedding for me to play, given the situation with Kim's father and all of the goings on with the TV taping.
Food Network aired the show 4 times between April 30 and May 7, and often repeats shows. Here's a link you can check for any updated scheduling http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/show_ie/episode/0,,FOOD_28496_56369,00.html
The show is really all about the planning and execution of the amazing Asian/Celtic dinner, but I'm on it for about 3 seconds. Don't blink or you'll miss me!
Sunset pix galore!
I'm doing a little art project.
Each night when I am at the Golf Club at Newcastle to pipe the sun down (generally between 8:30 and 9:00 pm), I snap a pic on my camera. Over the four plus years I've been playing there I've seen some amazing sunsets, and as much as I appreciated sunsets before, I have an even greater appreciation for them now.
So, you can view the photos. Just go to http://www.camerarenter.com/ and in the "FIND YOUR PHOTOS" field, type "Neil"
You'll be able to see the pix. Lot's of them from May are pretty cloudy and gray but there are starting to be more with some beautiful red and orange color, and the one from last night (here) is especially spectacular. Unfortunately, there is no way for me to date or caption the shots, but I'll post some of the better ones here.
The reason I decided to do this is that last year I had a conversation with a woman there at Newcastle who said, commenting on the sunset, "does it always look like this up here?" My response was "no, it's completely different every night." So I decided to be able to capture as best I can, in 8 megapixels, the infinite ways the sky can look.
And as an aside, I think the view from the terrace at the Calcutta Grill at the Golf Club at Newcastle is one of the great underrated views in the whole Puget Sound area. The club is open to the public, you can have dinner, a drink, or just come up to take in the view. Directions: http://www.newcastlegolf.com/Directions.aspx?SecID=369
Who's the real celebrity here?
OK. I finally have the time and motivation--a funny story to tell--to write a post. Mind you, I'm still a reluctant blogger. But here goes.
I play the pipes every night at sunset at the Newcastle Golf Course. During the past couple of years I've had the opportunity to chat a few times with a well known local TV news anchor and his young daughter. Two nights ago, while I was playing they came out to listen. I stopped and talked with them for a few minutes. Her 4th birthday was the next day (yesterday). As we talked about other things, 3 young boys, probably between the ages of 8 and 11, approached us, each with a piece of paper in their hands, and one with a pen and one of those flat folders that restaurants bring you your check in.
They asked ME for my autograph. Suprised, with an odd mixture of feeling humbled and prideful, I looked at the local TV celebrity and told the boys "you should be asking for HIS autograph!" One replied "who's he?" I said "he does the news on the TV!" We both laughed, with him saying "they don't watch the news, you're the celebrity up here."
So I asked the first kid what his name was, and what he wanted me to write (a trick I learned as a teenager when I asked Lou Reed for his autograph, and my reply, which he appropriately wrote down "I don't know.") Predictably, the youngster said "Ummmm....I don't know." Which I wrote down verbatim.
I signed the next two autographs, accidentially misspelling one of the kid's names, and they left, thrilled now to add Neil the Bagpiper's autograph to their Seahawk autographs. I finished my evening by playing "Happy Birthday" for the about-to-be-four year old.
I relate this story here, and somehow it seems much drier on the computer screen, because just about every time I play, there is some little thing like this that occurs, that for me, makes the experience of performing publicly so much richer than simply walking out, playing the bagpipe and leaving. This is one of the unexpected rewards I've found comes with doing what I love to do.
I play the pipes every night at sunset at the Newcastle Golf Course. During the past couple of years I've had the opportunity to chat a few times with a well known local TV news anchor and his young daughter. Two nights ago, while I was playing they came out to listen. I stopped and talked with them for a few minutes. Her 4th birthday was the next day (yesterday). As we talked about other things, 3 young boys, probably between the ages of 8 and 11, approached us, each with a piece of paper in their hands, and one with a pen and one of those flat folders that restaurants bring you your check in.
They asked ME for my autograph. Suprised, with an odd mixture of feeling humbled and prideful, I looked at the local TV celebrity and told the boys "you should be asking for HIS autograph!" One replied "who's he?" I said "he does the news on the TV!" We both laughed, with him saying "they don't watch the news, you're the celebrity up here."
So I asked the first kid what his name was, and what he wanted me to write (a trick I learned as a teenager when I asked Lou Reed for his autograph, and my reply, which he appropriately wrote down "I don't know.") Predictably, the youngster said "Ummmm....I don't know." Which I wrote down verbatim.
I signed the next two autographs, accidentially misspelling one of the kid's names, and they left, thrilled now to add Neil the Bagpiper's autograph to their Seahawk autographs. I finished my evening by playing "Happy Birthday" for the about-to-be-four year old.
I relate this story here, and somehow it seems much drier on the computer screen, because just about every time I play, there is some little thing like this that occurs, that for me, makes the experience of performing publicly so much richer than simply walking out, playing the bagpipe and leaving. This is one of the unexpected rewards I've found comes with doing what I love to do.
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