Leaving

Everybody knows ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Most people will have sung it at some point or another – probably on a New Year’s Eve, and most likely whilst crossing arms and linking hands in a circle with a lot of other people that they don’t really know.

In common with a number of other things that ‘everybody knows’, however, most of us probably don’t really know ‘Auld Lang Syne’ that well at all. How many of us can do more than mumble our way through the first verse and chorus? How many know that, though the incomparable Rabbie Burns published it in 1788, he actually based it on a much older ballad – “Old Long Syne” – by one James Watson, printed in 1711 and of which the first verse and the chorus bear a remarkable resemblance to Burns’ later version. Watson himself very probably ‘borrowed’ the ballad from an even earlier – and unrecorded – source.

It may seem that the end of February is an odd time to be pontificating on the origins of the traditional New Year ballad. It might perhaps make more sense if we associate it with Hogmanay, the Scottish equivalent – for Hogmanay is more properly the name given to the last day of the Old Year, and the underlying ethos of the festival is to do with clearing out the vestiges of the year that has gone, to allow a clean break and to welcome in a young, New Year on a happy note.

‘Auld Lang Syne’ is thus more than anything a song of farewell and remembrance. As a result, in addition to its appearance at Hogmanay, it is also frequently sung at funerals, graduations and as a farewell or ending to other occasions.

Thus it was that a disparate group of friends and colleagues, sitting round a large wooden table in a pub on Richmond Hill (called – delightfully – ‘The Lass O’ Richmond Hill’) one Sunday lunchtime at the end of February… crossed arms, linked hands in a circle, and mumbled their way through the first verse and chorus of ‘Auld Lang Syne’. We may not have won any prizes or many talent show votes, but we were saying ‘goodbye’ – or rather ‘au revoir’ – to the Kickass Canada Girl, and we mumbled from the heart. BCs gain is, in this case, very much England’s loss – though I will naturally do my best to drag her back at every possible opportunity.

The fourth verse of the ballad is germane (with a translation for the Sassenachs):

“We twa hae paidl’d i’ the burn,
Frae mornin’ sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne”

“We two have paddled in the stream,
From morning sun till dine;
But seas between us broad have roared
Since long, long ago.”

This time next week – the Girl will be back in Victoria…

“She said why don’t we both
Just sleep on it tonight
And I believe in the morning
You’ll begin to see the light
And then she kissed me
And I realized she probably was right” – Paul Simon

I firmly believe Paul Simon to be one of the greatest ever pop lyricists, and no mean tune-smith to boot. If you know of anyone who can better the incorporation of words such as “misconstrued” or “pertains” into the popular song lyric – without being pretentious or overly clever – then by all means feel free to educate me.

Kickass Canada Girl is currently working through the 50 ways, though – fortunately for me – it is not her lover that she is leaving… or at least, only in a transitory sense! The sorting out and the packing are major operations involving much detailed planning, as one would expect when moving permanently from one country to another. It is fortunate that the Girl is good with lists. The intercontinental character of our lives over the next few years should at least give us the advantage of being able to move her belongings incrementally, without the need to make all the decisions on day one.

The leaving of friends and acquaintances is another matter. Those who have come to know and love Kickass Canada Girl – that is, everyone who has met her – now find themselves having to contemplate saying goodbye with little idea of when and where the next meeting might be. Worse still – from their point of view – I will still be here, and they will have to suffer me moaning on about my lonesome condition for the next two years. The Girl will be back, of course – she is after all married to a Scot who lives in England – but those visits will doubtless seem all to brief, much as our visits to BC currently do to me.

Naturally everyone wants a piece of the Girl before she leaves, so we are busy arranging leaving gatherings for friends, relatives and work colleagues. This – on top of winding up and handing over her current job (during a particularly busy period – inevitably!) and getting everything ready to go, is causing an understandable degree of stress. Leaving dinners and parties fall into that slightly awkward category of events that are notionally celebratory, but which – being tinged with sadness – are perhaps not as easy to enjoy as one would wish. Fortunately the Girl has a week in Mexico to look forward to before she takes up her new post, which will provide a much needed hiatus, and the prospect of which should give her the energy to be the life and soul…

For myself, I might just…

“Slip out the back, Jack”