Smoking Ban

What are peoples' thoughts on the effect that the smoking ban (implemented in Ireland in February 2004, and celebrating its fifth birthday next year) has had on traditional Irish music sessions?***

See, I'm generally a fan of the smoking ban. It's really nice not to come home with ones clothes reeking of smoke after a night out. The social aspect (especially in Ireland, where businesses seem to encompass a particularly rigorous approach to socialising that if we could only apply to education and healthcare would make this little soggy country a much nicer place to live) is fantastic - I don't think we could have envisaged the excitement of 'smirting' (apparently it's smoking and flirting all at once) when we were gazing forlornly at our twenty Marlboro prior to the introduction of the ban. The health thing is fantastic - ensuring that those of us who do smoke do not impress our habit upon those who don't.

There is, when viewed objectively, only one downfall to this ban (two if you count the appealling aroma of Guinness farts - mmmmmm). Musicians smoke - a LOT of musicians smoke. Go to any festival, and the smoking area is heaving - elbow room only. Now, while a musician is in a pub and she gets a pint and has a few tunes, maybe forty five minutes later she'll start to think of that shiny rectangular box in her bag. In the past, she would have sparked up there and then, and if a tune began that took her fancy, she would utilise that dying art of 'balancing the cigarette at the cigarette holder part of the ashtray so it will go out on its own without having to stub it out' and join in. Then she could light up again at her leisure, potentially taking three or even four 'goes' to finish the cigarette. That was the blissful past, where smoking in no way detracted from the participation in and the quality of the session.

Nowadays, our musician wants a smoke. Undoubtedly, he must traverse a gauntlet on the way to the smoking area blocked by a piper, a keyboard player, three flute players dribbling saliva all over his shoes, three fiddles accidentally poking him in the back of the knees with their bows, a piano accordion being fierce loud, a guitar string snapping in his face, a drunk man tripping over a stool, an enthusiastic listener at the bar who just won't stop talking crap, a stack of beer barrels and a wonky umbrella. By the time he has got through that, had his miserable little smoke under a heater where one shoulder is the colour of roast ham and the other could be turned into a manmade habitat for polar bears, gone to the loo and made his way back to his place, there is some newly arrived crusty with some bizarre instrument yoke in his place, thus violating all session ettiquette. After fecking his many legged tinwhistle with strings over the bar and berating him for his rudeness, anything up to half an hour may have passed. The musicians have had to stir themselves twice, poking each other in the eyes and tearing ligaments in ankles with dignity (and of course, surreptuously brushing hands with the sexy musician next to them. Is it a crisis or an opportunity, hmmmm???). He can start to play again, but of course, then the next one is out for a smoke and the whole delicate dance begins again.

Big BIG BIG distractions - wreaking the place, fighting over seats, dealing with the masses - in the past you could just sit at your seat and nurse your cigarette to the timing of the session. It might not be healthy, but it does NOT suit Irish music. Not one little bit.

*** Incidentally, I'm aware of the fact that there is nobody reading this, and that I am addressing this question into deepest, loneliest cyberspace, and that anyway I intended to answer the question myself, thus rendering the tone of that introduction rather redundant. I am aware, you (if you ever do show up) don't need to point that out.

It's one thing...

...to have a complete nuisance in a session, someone with an inflated sense of importance that isn't at all matched by their ability, someone who monopolises the evening with unsuitable tunes that no one else knows and who generally rubs everyone up the wrong way. That is one thing.

It is another thing entirely to be caught ROTTEN bitching about them in the smoking area.

Whoops.

Welcome again...

An very kind friend reminded me of the months worth of nonsense I churned out here in July of last year and asked why I stopped. It's not magic children, the lazy gene kicked off and I just wasn't arsed. But far be it from me to disappoint the loyal fans, the 21 views that this page has had in one whole year (I'm SO POPULAR, it's SICK). So here we are again for another month.

What have I done, pints and tunes wise? Well, quite a lot actually. Because of my deep commitment to tunes all year they gave me an MA to recognise it - the Masters in Irish Traditional Music Performance from the IWblahblablah. It was a course I elected to participate in only after it had started and I burst into the course directors office, demanding a place and God was smiling down - he threw his eyes up to heaven, left me sitting there alone for 45 minutes and let me in. It was a fantastic year, I never knew how much I didn't know about playing music until I did it. And in fairness, I still haven't a clue. Would you like to be jealous? I would like to make you jealous. Here is my list of tutors in no particular order...

Siobhan Peoples (regular tutor all year)
Frankie Gavin
Tommy Peoples
John Carty
Brendan Mulkere
Matt Cranitch
Laura Cortese
Tola Custy
Liam Lewis
Claudine Arcand
Athena McLoughlin
John Dipper
Manus Maguire
Caoimhin O Raghallaigh
Gerry O Connor
Eileen O Brien
Jenna Reid
Gerry Holland

I can honestly say I learned something from every single one of them, however, Gerry Holland was particularly special. On top of this, I was lucky enough to be a member of a wonderful class - each and every student was extraordinarily talented and more importantly, really really sound. And in my book sound trumps talent at each and every turn.

That's all for now - pints catching up with me, you know yourself. Promise I'll be back this time.