Saturday, March 17, 2007

Erin go blahhhh

This will probably sound horrible coming from someone named Ian McGibboney, but I don't really feel St. Patrick's Day.

I mean, yeah, it was kind of fun in kindergarten, when my teacher affixed a small square of green construction paper with a paper clip to the shirts of kids who forgot to wear green so that they wouldn't be mercilessly pinched on the playground; but, since then, it's all been downhill for me. And I think I know why:

--I'm not a heavy drinker, either by Louisiana or Missouri standards.

--The holiday celebrates the day a Catholic missionary died. That's morbid.

--Most St. Patty's Day celebrations are (like Cinco de Mayo) just excuses to get wasted, which is an affront to my Irish heritage.

--Actually, I wouldn't really know that, because (to paraphrase Chris Rock) if I went to Ireland, they'd look at me funny and say, "Aye, who the bloody hell is this fookin' Yank?"

--The existence of the term "St. Patty's Day," which ranks right up there with "tummy" in travesties of the English language.

--The holiday requires the wearing of green, and you know how much I love mandated conformity. I don't remember Hitler winning in the European Theater! I still wear green, though. But only if I'm not in the mood for pinching. Which is a rare occurrence.

--I don't need to pimp my ethnicity to get kissed. Well, okay, it helps...but I can do that every day. Aye!

"Kiss me, I'm Irish." Not quite "If you go black, you never go back," but pretty close. We taters do what we can. Erin Go Bragh!

1 comment:

Leigh C. said...

Sounds like you need the shirt that says: "On the eighth day, God created whiskey so that the Irish wouldn't take over the world."

And it was black, too, so no conformity issues!