Saint Patrick’s Day is always a little bit of a problem. The trouble is deciding what you are actually celebrating. Are you celebrating Irish culture? Are you celebrating Alcoholism and Thuggery? Are you celebrating the actual Saints Day? The whole day is riddled with problems. If you are going after Irish culture, and you think you can explore it with food, and you wander into a “Corned Beef and Cabbage” recipe – save your effort. That dish isn’t Irish at all. It’s Jewish. So for proud Irish Catholics, they may be a touch upset at that. As with Alcohol and Thuggery, well, they go hand in hand. People put food coloring in beer and feature alcoholic beverages, because the Irish are stupid brutish obnoxious drunks. Obviously. And you have to placate the gaelic horde with alcohol before they push your wife down a narrow staircase. Then we get to the Saint himself. This one is jammed-packed with issues. Saint Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. Supposedly to save the Irish Potato, which I believe is either called the Muck or the Punter. But this is a cute little charmer to answer curious children. What was Saint Patrick doing? Snakes? How about aboriginal druidic and pagan peoples? Yeah, there are a lot of people still quite upset, even thousands of years later that Saint Patrick ejected the original people and original belief systems out of Ireland so the Catholics could set up shop. I never really got into it very deeply, maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’s just an allegory and didn’t really exist. Much like the rest of the “Holiday” it’s primarily what you think it is that it becomes for you.

For me? I wear my family crest which I have on a shirt and I spend time looking at pictures of County Antrim where I suspect my family was originally from. I look at the tartan for Antrim and I spend a little time daydreaming about the boat and the red-hand on my family crest. Then I enjoy some Corned Beef and Cabbage and think fondly of a nice Jewish family helping out a down-and-out Irishman. Then I start thinking about Latkes and Knishes. I then fall asleep in my recliner after several beers and finally do some honor to my proud ancestors. 🙂