Mr. Chairman, honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen - Councillor ...

Mr. Chairman, honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen
Firstly I would like to thank Ian for witty and humorous toast to the lassies.
I am delighted to be here tonight and I hope to reply with justice on behalf of
the lassies.
Tonight we have been flattered by Ian, and that's one of the great things about
Burns suppers, after a busy Christmas and New Year when us girls have
shopped and cooked for Scotland isn't it nice to at last be appreciated?
Listening tonight to our speakers it’s plain to see that men revere the National
Bard- Scotlands favourite Son, Cultural Icon, he’s the Bees Knees, a real Jack
The Lad. What nonsense! Ladies we know better don’t we.
The truth is he was a waster, a drunkard, a womaniser, failed farmer, taxman
cum poet - an out and out scoundrel. In 37 short years he created absolute
havoc.
Rabbie epitomises in some way good or bad every man we have ever met –
lets look at a couple of examples: Robbie refers to himself with pride as
‘Inconstant’ – ladies we would prefer the term ‘cheating git’. He claimed to
write about women he knew and he evidently knew a lot of women because
he wrote poems about Anna, Alison, Katie, Mary, Jeannie, Chloris, Clarinda,
Nancy, Nell, Molly, Polly, Peggy, Bessie, Jessie, Eliza, Maria and Delia. A
tolerant bunch I must say.
Arrogance: Failed as a farmer and with 2 women pregnant he decided the
honourable course of action was to scuttle off to Jamaica. Persuaded against
this he married Jean Armour who he had the audacity to describe as a
‘forgiving’ woman who accepted and took responsibility for all his children
legitimate and illegitimate. In total he fathered 12 children with an assortment
of women and he wasn’t too creative in the naming department for 3 of his
daughters were called Elizabeth. He greeted the first Elizabeth with a poem
called Welcome to the Bastard Wean – what a charmer.
I could go on and on but the truth is that Burns was a wee horror revered in
the male dominated society of the 18 th century. In fairness he did make a
fleeting reference to the rights of women meriting some attention – big deal!
Fortunately girls, since then we have come a long way - acquired voting
rights, equal pay, equal opportunities. It has only taken us 200 years which
proves that we will always get what we want eventually.
I got to thinking how different things would be had Robbie Burns been born a
woman in the current times. Roberta Burns, aged 20 years, good sense of
humour, seeks male companions and Bring Your Own Bottle. She decides to
escape to the Highlands and jumps into her wee Clio, fills up with red diesel
and heads north. She visits many towns and villages along the way but finds

herself eventually in Brora. She sources Cunninghams, Il Padrinos, Blisss
and the Golf Club – what more could a woman ask for?
But along the way the carousing siren meets Hootie Baillie, Jim Cunningham,
Bill Ballantyne, Phil Shanks, Ronnie Sim, Malcolm McColl, Ken Lorimer, Alex
Rennie, John Clarkson, Bill Honeyman, Tony Gill – I could go on. She lives
the high life and regularly creates havoc in the Golf Club with her drunken
tales and exploits , she’s unreliable with money and she goes on to produce
12 children – and, to upstage her famous namesake she calls 3 of them Ken,
3 of them Bill, 3 of them Phil and 3 Jim. Chaos reigns in the village! Now – no
one is going to tell me that Roberta Burns will appear in the Raggie described
as a Cultural Icon.
Just ask Sheila or Ann or Meg or Kathleen how they’d describe Roberta!
She also met Alasdair Risk but being a Socialist Roberta would have no truck
with a Tory so that was a non-starter although being a paid up member of the
Labour Party she did indicate that she’s open to all donations with a ceiling of
£950.
So anyway gentlemen we ladies rest our case safe in the knowledge that you
got Rabbie wrong.
Roberta does have a serious side and one day suffering from a severe
hangover she pops into Padrinos for a latte. Alongside her are some of the
ladies of the village. Hettie Cunningham, ever the wise matriarch, dispenses
some sound advice, ‘Come on now, settle down and behave yourself and
write some of this poetry you tell us you’re so good at’.
She starts to write a poem entitled ‘Tess o Shanter – an analysis and
comparison of it with Tam O Shanter. The poem is set in Padrinos as
opposed to the bottom bar of the SA where Robbie no doubt would have
favoured:
"When chaps like Billie leave the street,
And beauticians and co-opy workers meet
When working days are wearing late
And the daily grind begins to abate
While we sit sipping our semi-skimmed latte
Exchanging news , both sad and happy
We think na on the long Scots miles
The speed cameras and bobbies with happy smiles

That lie between us and our hame."
And now at this point in her poem, Roberta Burns makes several important
observations on men and their behaviour.
To recap :
"We think na on the lang Scots miles
That lie between us and our hame’
And Elinor Sim chips in -
Where, withoot fail,
Stands our sullen sulky male
And who, true to form,
Is still figuring it oot how to switch on the microwave,
To make his tea warm.
Tess called him a Macho Man Supreme
Who didna ken one end from the other of the washing machine.
She told him he was a social inadequ-ate
And to the really important things in life, he couldna relate.
For instance,
The only time doon his cheeks the tears would stream
Was on news of another defeat for Brora’s football team.
She prophesised that late or soon
By the end of the season , his team would be doon.
This truth fand honest Tess O’Shanter
As she and her friends did sit and banter.

Now after this passage in "Tam O’Shanter", Robert Burns goes on to describe
the virtues of the town of Ayr, with the famous description –
Auld Ayr, that ne'er a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonnie lasses
But I think that Roberta now sitting with Sheila and Kendra, would want to use
this passage to warn folk on the trials ahead and to promote the anti-wrinkle,
anti-ageing cream industry that offers such solace to us women (and men!).
And she would have written :
Auld Age, that ne’er one person by-passes,
Be they honest men or bonnie lasses
Now in Robert Burns’ version he goes on to describe Tam O’Shanter’s
drinking crony –Souter Johnny :
And at his elbow, Souter Johnie,
His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony:
Tam lo'ed him like a very brither;
They had been fou for weeks thegither.
Roberta Burns’ version would have shown that while some men find solace in
binge drinking, women find pleasure and contentment in retail therapy.
Roberta would have written :
And at her elbow , Ann and Jenny.
Her trusted friends for years a’many
Tess liked them as she liked none other
They’d gone shopping in Cunninghams every week together.
If we move on now to the journey back, Roberta would have happily chosen to
adapt a few of Robert Burns’ lines on Tam riding through the storm, before
making a distinctive change in the story.
She would have written :
Neither Time nor Tide can be tethered by ony person alive
The hour approached when Tess must drive.

The wind blew as 'twad blown its last
The rattling showers rose on the blast
Loud deep and long the thunder bellow
And Tess’ SatNav screen went completely yellow.
And so, five hundred yards from Brora Golf Club
Tess’ car drove into an enormous great big dub.
It was a huge impassable dub, the width and depth o’ the Atlantic Ocean.
But… what was that sound coming from it, what was that commotion?
And to Tess’s great surprise, delight and mirth
Who should emerge from oot the water but - Mr. D’Arcy
-Played by Colin Firth.
The next passage would have dealt with a description of Mr. D’Arcy lifting
Tess over the flooded stretch of road and then placing her on his white horse
before they gallop off up Golf Road.
So now, let’s return to Tess and her thoughts as she and Mr. D’Arcy ride on.
Roberta would have written :
Tess was ecstatic, he was an unbelievable catch,
He was tall dark and handsome – with a soaking shirt to match
He was kind and courteous, and talked about his feelings,
And no’ aboot five thousand Gigabyte-hard drives that would stretch up to the
ceiling.
He promised her ae fond kiss and a red, red rose
And Tess began to swoon,
Was this the real Mr. D’Arcy
Or an apparition from Mills & Boon?

The poem reaches its romantic zenith as Tess and Mr. D’Arcy finally reach
Tess’ house.
Roberta Burns would have written :
They both dismounted ootside Tess’ hoos,
Both sore wi’ the pain o’ a fleeting love,
It’s just like Trevor Howard in “Brief Encounters”, Tess thought, as she gazed
at the stars above.
D’Arcy’s horse sped into the night, as fast as any stallion can,
Tess fumbled in her bag for her front door key, now to see her Microwave
Man.
And just before she put the key in the lock, she recalled the words of a poet,
These two hundred and twelve years dead, -
“But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white—then melts for ever.”
And there the tale of Tess O’Shanter ends.
But Roberta Burns would not have allowed the poem to end on such a sad
note.
She would have ended it with a rousing appeal to women across the world,
transcending international boundaries.
She would have completed the poem of “Tess O’Shanter” as follows :
Ah gentle dames, it gars me speak,
To offer you this short and sweet advice,

Ignore all this talk about “Girl Power” coming from the likes o’ thon bloomin’
Posh Spice.
Instead, next time Microwave Man is on his computer playing
“Strike Commando Combat Force Seven”
Sit doon and watch your “Pride and Prejudice” DVD
And dream of D’Arcy wi your cuppie o tea.
END
Please ladies, let us have a toast, just like we did before
Boys, without you, we’d have less work to do, but life would be such a bore!