My songwriting partner invited me to a ceilidh in Fort Langley last week. The word is pronounced kay-lee and comes from Gaelic history, meaning dance or gathering. Any gathering of the clans resulted in singing, dancing, competitions and the odd fight if there was a little too much grog and not enough singing.

The good folks at St Andrew’s United Church in Fort Langley have revived the tradition and the odd Thursday night they invite the community to a gathering at the church hall on Glover Road.

I pay a five spot at the door and another toonie for some 50/50 tickets and I’m in. A big pot of coffee is bubbling in the corner and the conversation is bubbling about the room. I can hear guitars, banjos and fiddles being tuned in the makeshift Green Room and soon our host invites us to be seated. He tells about the Maritime tradition of the ceilidh and says the singers are here to entertain. Just pretend it’s a bunch of neighbours coming over.

He introduces the first act by saying, “I thought this guy had been in jail because they told me he’s always behind a couple of bars, looking for the key.” His fiddle rips off some reels and some jigs and gets the toes tappin’ and the hands clappin’. Then we are treated to a great voice sharing some Peter, Paul and Mary tunes. He calls up another couple who ask if anyone remembers the Sons of the Pioneers. They do a great job on Cool Water and Tumbling Tumbleweed. I find myself remembering my Dad’s old 78 rpm of Cool Water — I’m sure it was the only song he knew all the words to.

A young fellow in boots, jeans and a baseball cap sits down and hugs his shiny guitar. He tells us he doesn’t sing and plays an instrumental medley that would make Chet Atkins proud. As the crowd recognizes each tune they sing it for him. Then he cuts loose and seems not to notice we’re there until he tips his cap to the applause. This is nice.

Next an organist uses all his buttons and keys and plays classical and country with ease. He is followed by a tall drink of water who shakes the hall with some Johnny Cash tunes and follows up with a combination of country/folk/rock.

After a Newfie female comedian shares her stories, our host tells us he has written a love song for his wife’s birthday. He apologizes if it is too mushy. Every love song was written by somebody for somebody and the recipient never thinks it’s too mushy. It’s not and he gets a kiss and we all get birthday cake and homemade biscuits and jam for ‘lunch.’

After the break, my buddy Dan Beer and Lisa sing a few soft tunes and Dan gets me up to help on the chorus of one we wrote. The evening finishes too soon with some Celtic tunes on the whistle and some more singers. It has become a ceilidh, a hootenanny and a revival.

Many of the local coffee shops have gatherings as well — great entertainment for the price of a cup of coffee. I got my $7 worth for sure. The next ceilidh is on Oct. 15. Pull up a chair or sit on the floor, they’ll find a spot for ya. At least that’s what McGregor says.