MEN IN SKIRTS!

Down below, pre cat, I revealed my real last name. Once is enough obviously, but the subject came up again because I have been doing some research on its origin. This research resulted from a discussion I had with a dear friend who has the good fortune to have Armstrong as his family moniker. Cool, huh? Very superhero. Anyway, for a reason herein concealed, the subject of kilts came up. You know, that pleated skirt Scotsmen wear on ceremonial occasions and, for all I know, casually when at home. Since both of our names are Scottish, at my friend’s behest I decided to find out what my family tartan is, just in case I ever decide to buy a skirt.

The name Armstrong is prominent in Scottish history and has not one, but two tartans, both colorfully bold and manly. I am totally jealous because my clan (or sub-group in this case) doesn’t seem to have a tartan. There are something like 2,700 clans in Scotland, all with tartans, coats of arms and family crests. My family name doesn’t have a crest either and I’m beginning to think my ancestors were probably peasants of some sort and no doubt mere cannon fodder for the more important clans during their internecine wars. I’m making this supposition solely on the fact that we do seem to have a coat of arms, shown above. It is described as follows: “Blue with a black chevron between three red popinjays.”

Yeah, right, what the heck is a popinjay anyway? Modern dictionaries describe a popinjay as a “supercilious person” which doesn’t quite fit in with the colorfully bold and manly façade I was hoping for. The best information I could find connected with Scottish history is that a popinjay is a mythological bird, but what this avian symbol accomplishes in our heraldry is a mystery. So that’s how I come to my cannon fodder theory. We’re those guys that go flying off the ramparts with an arrow through the eye in those Braveheart-type movies. The honchos in the Armstrong clan needed to recognize us for the grace of our flight, thus a popinjay seemed appropriate for our coat of arms. (Is that a Monty Python skit, a coat made of real arms, or did I just make that up?)

Interestingly, whilst Googling this subject, I discovered there is a Scottish Tartan Museum in Franklin, NC and rather than torture myself any further I sent them $10 (plus $2 shipping) to do the research for me. Now I’m torturing myself as to the reason there is a museum like that in a place like that. Come to think of it though, I have heard that those mid-south states are a veritable hotbed of Scottish genealogy and my father was originally born in Kentucky…so maybe I shouldn’t be too surprised. Purportedly there are more Scots in No. Carolina than there are in Scotland (don’t quote me).

Oh, before you get too impressed by my coat of arms, you should know it really only consists of that shield in the middle; all that fancy stuff around the edges is just so they can sell the coffee cups.