A version of this joke doing the rounds in Dublin many years ago concerned a notoriously tight-fisted uilleann piper, a brilliant player by the way. It was said that when he drove his mother down the country to see her relatives he charged her for the petrol!
Anyway, a traditional musician keels over, and finds himself in front of St Peter, who is looking very ominous. He proceeds to read out a long list of the musician's sins and misdemeanours, and says to him: 'The only reason your have been allowed to see me is that in spite of all these sins you were kind to people, and your music gave great pleasure to thousands, and God decided to give a chance. But you have to do penance: take this egg-spoon and back down to Dublin with you, and level the Hill of Howth'. 'Level the Hill of Howth? But that'll take millions of years.' 'Well, you can always hang around the Old Sheiling in Raheny [then a well-known venue for traditional music not too far from Howth], and wait for X to buy you a pint.' 'To hell with it, give me the spoon!'
Coda: At a piping do long, long ago, said piper bought me a pint at three o'clock in the morning. Recovering from the shock, I mentioned the momentous event to a friend at breakfast: 'In the name of God, Seán, what did you do? Drink it, or frame it?'
Leave a comment: