Tonight (1 day late) we had a Burn's supper at home to celebrate that big Scottish tradition "Burns night".
We had the traditional Haggis (vegetarian though, don't even think about what's in the normal stuff), neeps (turnip or suedes to most) and mashed potato. My daughter gave the 'Address to the Haggis' reciting a poem she had learnt at school. It felt all homely and pleasant. I felt content. I know that tomorrow I will still feel great and I will remember the whole event.
The Burn's nights of my drinking days were completely the opposite. Firstly, I didn't care, or care to learn, who Burns was (he was a Scottish poet from Ayrshire 1759-1796), what we were celebrating (his birth), or any of his work. I didn't even care for the traditional scotch whisky.
No, all I was interested in was the wine, lots of it, just keep it coming. I would be at some celebration or another with several like-minded individuals, and we would chat and drink and drink and drink and end up drunk then go home. In fact it was pretty much the same as every other social occasion.
It was never about the occasions
It was just another excuse to drink.
Here is a link to the best Burns website for those sufficiently interested, and a summary from it for those who prefer to cut to the bottom line!
The annual celebratory tribute to the life, works and spirit of the great Scottish poet, Robert Burns (1759-1796). Celebrated on, or about, the Bard's birthday, January 25th, Burns Suppers range from stentoriously formal gatherings of esthetes and scholars to uproariously informal rave-ups of drunkards and louts. Most Burns Suppers fall in the middle of this range, and adhere, more or less, to some sort of time honoured form which includes the eating of a traditional Scottish meal, the drinking of Scotch whisky, and the recitation of works by, about, and in the spirit of the Bard.