Friday, March 17, 2006
Like any good natured person with an inclination to drink and a hereditary past of alcoholism, I enjoy St. Patrick’s Day.
So does New York City, and all the overly green clad peeps therein. I don’t mind their drunken staggering at all, and green is one of the best colors so seeing loads of green clad people just makes me feel like the whole city decided to dress up for me. Cheers, New York.
And Guinness. Guinness is great. That’s right I am a tiny girl who loves a thick near black beer preferred mainly by haggard old potato farmers and soccer fans.
Yep, this is a great holiday to be sure, any holiday centered about drinking as early and often as possible, wearing a lot of one particular color, and acting like a jerk is great. Other examples: Maris Grais, and the Queen’s Birthday in Amsterdam. Both brilliant.
Here is my problem with this joyous day.
Why do people pretend to be Irish? How is that socially acceptable? On Kwanza people don’t run around pretending to African. On Yon Kipper people don’t say “kiss me I’m a Jew!” Also, suddenly every bar in the city is an Irish Pub- really? Just because you serve Guinness, doesn’t change the fact that Bud Light is on tap right next to it…