Frankly I'm not sure how it happened.
But somehow I've become as Irish as
they come. For many reasons I spend
the day before Saint Patrick's totally
immersed in a sea of green. Thus one
thing is certain, I put on my Irish with
gusto! Odd given that historically I
loathed the holiday. Exactly what has
gotten my Eire up? Could it be that
beneath my all too tight green Barena
blazer beats the heart of a big, fat, and
rather gay leprechaun? Is that why I
sort of like short men? BEGORRAH!
Green with envy?
Maybe the reason I'm so happy is
the fact that our world has changed
for both good and bad. Years ago,
the powers that be prohibited gay
paraders down Fifth Avenue. Now
our homophobic VP has homos to
lunch. Given Mike Pence's history
LGBTQ offenses he must have
dined on crow with Leo Varadkar,
Ireland's Prime minister and his
hunky husband. Is this proof that
he's a reformed bigot? Or willing
to do anything to keep his job?!
Where's the beef?
Part of my compulsion may be that this
errant elf absolutely adores corned beef.
One might assume said affection arises
from the annual celebration of said saint
casting out snakes. However growing up
we dined on a boiled slab at least once
a month. Along with devouring a deli
corned beef on rye weekly. Back in the
Big Apple my addiction was shared by
those of the Jewish faith. And as a deli
junkie I consider God's greatest gifts to
be corned beef... pastrami.. kreplach...
kugel... and chicken soup. OY VEY!
Most residents of any urban center
abhor this green day. Manhattan's
streets are filled with teetering tots
from Teterboro. Little is more ugly
than watching teens vomit into or
miss trash cans. Then again, their
ensembles vert make me retch! If
Saint Patrick were alive today I'm
certain he'd cast those snakes out!
In Chicago their river turns green.
Which is probably to camouflage
any brew paraders may spew. Now
isn't that enough to make one sick!?
Just add water
Who doesn't love a boiled dinner?
Literally all one does is boil the beef
add potatoes, cabbage, carrots, and
celery. That's it. I also serve a loaf of
Irish Soda Bread (from the grocer I'm
ashamed to admit) and a big dish of
chocolate mint gelato. Who wouldn't
be green with envy over such a repast?!
Apparently many given it's rather hard
to find a corned beef in Montana any
other time of the year. Hence I stock
up and freeze several. You never know
when you need some comfort food...
I'll be happy when Sunday is over. It's
not that I don't love the Irish. Nor green
(even if orange is my fav). As I shared
prior Irish butter is a key ingredient of
our daily fare. And I've been known to
appreciate the random redhead or two.
But such tales have no place on such a
sacred day. So while no green beer will
pass my lips... I'll try to raise a bourbon
Manhattan or two in honor of the fact
that we're not in Manhattan. Fortunately
there's no parade in Lewistown so I will
wave my shillelagh in privacy at home!