My dad was from Ireland; County Cork. He came over from the "old country" on a boat with my mother. He came over here, he would often tell us, "to be an American." He had no time for St. Patrick's day, in fact he hated the holiday. I remember the day that he became a U.S. citizen. It was a very happy day in his life. His was not a very happy life, but I won't get into all that right now. When I was drinking, I always drank heavily most every day. I did not need the excuse of green beer or being Irish descended to black out. Mostly, I was hungover on St. Patrick's Day. I don't ever rember celebrating it with a drunk. I probably copped my father's attitude that it was a loser holiday. Most of the people drinking green beer on St. Pattie's day, I would venture, have no Irish blood anywhere within them. Of course, non-Christians support the commercial aspects of Christmas. Anyway, I bought some sushi from the grocery store and I'm going to go eat it. The dogs are begging for a biscuit. The kid gets back from Chicago tonight.
It's St. Patrick's day, but I don't care. It's just another day. Just like all days are just another day and I'm thankful that I'm still here to be in them. Be safe. Bye.