The Crossgate Hornpipe
I wrote this tune after someone’s goldfish died.
Put it this way: It is reasonable to suppose that literally anything one does, from getting up in the morning to going to bed at night, will happen minutes after somebody’s goldfish somewhere has turned belly-up or found a new home inside a cat.
This tune is named after Crossgate, a street in Durham City (UK) which contains The Elm Tree, one of Durham’s session pubs. I haven’t knowingly pinched the arpeggios in the first part from another tune, but wouldn’t be a bit surprised if James Hill or Scott Skinner or someone else had come up with them first.
I wouldn’t worry about pinching from Skinner or Hill, where do you think they got their ideas from!
My goldfish didn’t die turning his back on the water. He jumped out of his cristal cage. He must have missed me: I found it already mummified after a few days away. Suicide perhaps wasn’t the best cure for boredom. But who is to say? I never had another fish (alive!) since.