Aurora On The Tare! And Other Stories
Some of you may know a pub was started way back in the 1980’s in Aurora, ON. The Unicorn was situated at St. Andrews Village on Orchard Heights Blvd, facing Yonge Street. Back then, Aurora was a fine place (it probably still is a fine place, but has grown since, I’m sure). St. Andrew’s Village was all in all a pleasant place itself, a wee almost villagey like place of a mixture of businesses and residences.
You know, we all tell some stories, and sometimes there’s truths, but also some half-truths and you can see the eyes sparkle. A lot of those great half-truth stories get told back in the pubs in Ireland. Pubs that were so old, you can smell the Guinness right in the wood inside the places. It was as if the wood was soaked in Guinness. You’ve never been to a pub until ye’ve been in such a place, and where someone will get out their accordion or tin whistle, and start to play a tune, and in between, those great stories get told. Some will make ye laugh, and some sad stories that will bring bring a teardrop to the eye. Sadly, The Unicorn in Aurora never did get to that stage where you could smell the wonderful aroma of Guinness seeping out of the walls and wood tables. Now there’s a teardrop to the eye story.
But back in Ireland, the Auld Man Miller used to visit Barney Neeson’s bar in Ballymena, and he’d quite likely have his button accordion that would get it’s fair use of musical time inside Neeson’s. And of course it’s as true as I tell ye, the stories would get told and heard inside the place could make ye laugh, learn, or bring a teardrop to the eye.
Ah, those were the days! And then were the dances and the characters, and how some of the songs we’d play were fictional, but sometimes based on real stories. It got me to thinking about an old tune The Irish Rovers used to sing: Let Mr. McGuire Sit Down
Ah,it’s a great fun song to play and sing! Of course, there were others who did the song, and often the title was shortened to just “Mick. McGuire” – many drank some pints listening to The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem, as they sung the song along with others over the course of an evening.
One of the things about Irish songs is the words are spelled as an Irishman might sing them and how you’d hear them. Sometimes, I laugh and laugh at how others interpret the words – all over Ireland you’ll hear great words but not know what the fellow is actually saying (or singing). Some great expressions we folk from Ballymena used to use. Do you know what it is to be “clabbered” or if you heard, “that’s absolutely boggin, so it is!”
Someone recently asked me what a “sate” was, if you’ll notice the line, “Johnny, get up from the fire, get up and give your man a sate.” Well, that’s what most of yous might call a “seat.” Your chair. Get up and give your man a seat.
I came across this site called Bell’s Irish Lyrics, and they include The Irish Rovers song about Mr. McGuire, with all the lyrics. Then they tried to interpret the ones you might not know, including “sate.” They mostly didn’t do a bad wee job, but manoman, did they screw up on “tare.” Here’s the line of the song:
“Sure I don’t know what gets in him, and he’s always on the tare”
Well, over there at Bells website, they claim we were singing about weed! Not a chance. Wise up! Now I’ve heard in some places, they call tares weeds, which comes somewhere from the Bible and Jesus’ parable about the wheat and the tares if my Sunday School learning is remembered.
But when we Irishmen were singing about being on a tare, it had nothin’ to do with being “on” a weed! No, it was about those men that couldn’t stop drinking Guinness and Whiskey, and they’d be drunk for days maybe, and that would mean they were out on the tare (or tear – prounced like tear a shirt but as in tearing up the place)!
But maybe some of today’s folk want to interpret words a wee bit differently, with this acceptance of that funny tobacco. Speaking of Aurora, where we would have encouraged some enjoyment of a few pints with some Bushmills (with a designated driver of course), today, you actually can get delivery of weed! Well, that is not what we ever meant about being out on the tare.
But whatever your pleasure is, May ye be half an hour in heaven, before the devil knows your dead!