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If I could ask a non-go related question to John Fairbairn: According to your profile on Amazon, your hometown is Newcastle (or Newcastle upon Tyne), which is in the north of England, near the Scottish border. But the photo shows you wearing a hat with what seems to be a tartan design. Does Newcastle have its own tartan tradition, or is this more a design that you happened to personally like? (Or perhaps you consider yourself more Scottish than English?) Sorry if this sounds, well, uninformed. But I was wondering if there was an abrupt change in customs as one crosses the Scottish-English border, or if instead the people on both sides had some traditions in common.
Things have changed in many ways since I was a lad, largely through television (we didn't get it until I was about 13). Prior to TV, local languages/dialects and customs were strong all over the UK. I'm sure it was the same all over the world. Texas German was one such language that fascinated me, and I was delighted recently to hear that Kyushu TV in Japan has gone back to doing interviews in the local dialect, impenetrable to Tokyo-ites, who can at least cope with Osaka-ben.
One special feature of where I lived was that we regarded the border between Scotland and England as Hadrian's Wall, not the Tweed, and so our language and customs were entirely Scottish. One benefit of that in my eyes was that I had a Scottish education, or GBH as it is known down South. I was surprised last night, when starting to read the autobiography of Craig Ferguson - a very likeable tv chatshow host in LA who relinquished much of his Scottishness by becoming an American citizen. Part of the reason was that he didn't want his children to have a Scottish education as he did. Strange man.
My mother tongue was (is!) Scots with a Northumbrian accent. In other words I sounded just like Rabbie Burns. It was Burns Day yesterday, and even down here in London there are Burns Suppers galore. I've limited myself to three (including one tonight). At one, I had to give the Toast to the Lassies. In my speech I referred to a typical Sunday scene at home on a dreich winter's day. I quoted my mother shouting at me, chuntering at the window because I wanted to go out and play football. "Ye canna gan oot, it's stotting doon." Then she would soften and say, "Come ower here and coorie doon wi me. Aam nithered." So I would go over and snuggle in to warm her up - kids were the only central heating we had in those days.
My family is from Scotland, specifically the part that is now called the Borders (i.e. both sides of the Tweed). We didn't use that term when I was young, partly because we assumed the Wall was the border, but also because we used the term only in the sense of the Borders people, i.e. the rich landowners, who now simply lead the Barbour-wearing set but then were more concerned with huntin', shootin' and fishin'. They didn't care whether they shot pheasants or peasants like me. Accordingly I have a family tartan, the Armstrong tartan. But the area also has its own tartan (one that Rabble Burns used), a black-and-white check. I wore that on Burns Night. It has various names such as the Falkirk tartan and the Borders tartan, but Burns called it the shepherd's tartan and nowadays the commonest name seems to be the Northumbrian tartan. But it is also famous as the Newcastle united tartan. The daughter of a certain American go player was a Newcastle United fan, and of captain Nicky Butt in particular. She was proud to wear a black-and-white shirt with his name on it. But American schoolteachers were not quite ready for that, a butt there being what we call the hurdies.
Incidentally, Scots offers fertile possibilities for go terms. One sentence I used recently was to described the need to wear "Nicky Tams to keep the stoor oot yer een." Asked to explain it, I told the interlocutor that literally you had to wear makeshift garters to keep the dust out of your eyes, but metaphorically there are other layers. The garters (bits of string really) in question are worn round the knees to keep the rats from climbing up your legs and the ferrets from escaping down them. So, if you were well protected, you could keep a clear eye on what is really important. It occurred to me, when looking at a Chinese game commentary shortly afterwards where boundary-play strategy, was being emphasised, that this phrase was good advice in go. Too many westerners focus far too much on counting with boundary plays. It is much more useful to focus instead, as implied in Japanese "thick" and Chinese shou, simply on keeping the rats out and keeping the ferrets in as regards your territory. And keeping the dust out of your eyes is also a good way to keep the focus on the whole game rather than an extra third of a point here or there.
As to the hat, it's a Tam o' Shanter. The bit on the top is a toorie - the top of a hardy thistle, not a poncey pom-pom. There's much more to these hats than it may seem. They are wool and so are warm and waterproof (and cheap!). Best of all, in even the strongest winds they just flop over to the other side and don't fly off. I tested mine in gale conditions on the cliffs over the Giant's Causeway in Ireland.
In short, autres temps, autres moeurs.