No, I am not Irish, not even the littlest bit. In fact, years of living with an angry alcoholic whose antecedents hailed from County Cork rather took the zing out of St. Patrick's Day for me, as I usually got the worse end of the shamrock. A decade spent in Boston listening to the locals talk about why people like me shouldn't be allowed into their little parade didn't help, either.
However, time and distance and a new appreciation for countries full of sheep have restored my enthusiasm, so if you're Irish and not an asshole, you have my best wishes, and the above cartoon is for you.
Dolores sends her best. She started celebrating last night, to beat the rush. Erin go baaaaa.
34 comments:
Erin Go Bahhh, to you too, Franklin.
Thanks for making me chuckle every day.
Until gays and lesbians are allowed to march in the NYC parade I have no interest. I am wearing rust and tan today.
I am a non-asshole Irish person and I wish you a Happy St. Patty's day! Thanks for the daily laughs!
I have been reading your blog and lovin' it! I always imagine Dolores has a brogue. As a second generation Irish person married to a native of Dublin residing in the Boston area, my sympathy goes out to you for your lousy experiences with those of the old sod. Ignorance is everywhere. Anyone with any Irish blood or appreciation of the culture would welcome you and yours. I know I do.
I've just printed a copy of your drawing to fax to my Irish father, a very lovely man from Belfast. I think it's wonderful, and I know he'll get a kick out of it too.
Happy St. Paddy's day!
Baaah!
I'm not usually an asshole, so I accept your wishes and return them.
I'm just your run-of-the-mill Irish Jew. I had a tetch of the Family Disease, so I finished a lifetime of drinking rather sooner than one might have expected. Tonight will be awash with the Guinnes NA -- NOT green -- and corned beef, cabbage, and champ for Shabbat dinner. And I bought a 10 pound brisket, so there will be corned beef left over for boxty in the morning.
Give Dolores my love, and tell her I ordered a mug with her mug.
I lived for 11 years in Ireland - Dublin and the West. I loved it and feel more homesick for there than for Scotland, my real native land.
I once painted a rainbow and pot of gold on my living room wall.
These two facts make me more Irish than your bad experience, no?
Thanks for the great wee cartoon!
Happy Paddy's Day, Franklin
I am not Irish. Actually, my family came from the more oppressive half of those islands. (I don't think I'm an asshole either, but I could be biased.) I do, however, appreciate any group whose national identity revolves around beer.
Tell Dolores to leave some for the rest of us.
Does it still count if I'm drinking Mexican beer?
just ordered a dolores mug as I sit here, warm and toasty, in my all-sheep high-kicking chorus line sweat shirt.
I trust the chicago river has been dyed green just for today.
I am not irish, so today has no meaning for me.
loving this blog, as always.
PS - I knew the curmudgeon would win!
anne marie in philly
Happy St. Patrick's day to you too!
Our family is a mixture of Irish-French (mother) and English-Scots (father). Literally orange and green.
While I have my moments, I'm not usually an asshole. I'm proud of my Irish heritage, and am sorry to hear about your experiences with those of Irish heritage who are less evolved persons. They are not the best side of the Irish character.
I think Dolores is channelling my love for debauchery. I live vicariously through her.
St. Patties day = overrated holiday for drunken tit groping pervos - will be going out for italian tonight.
To all the nice Irish in the crowd I will enjoy a pint o' guiness in salute!
Love the illustrations.
Mostly not an asshole and mostly Irish here, so thanks for the pic :-)... find it amusing that you went from Boston to Chicago... lots of Irish here, too, lol... I try to ignore the close-minded parts of being, well, anything...
YEAH! I'm Irish and not an asshole (or so I think). THanks for the cartoon!
I grew up being made to wear orange on St. Paddy's Day -- we were protestant Irish from Northern Ireland and my family immigrated (1857)because my great great uncle was stoned to death for his religious beliefs. Sheep Country is Best.
Well, you know, there's that old Irish thing about how there are two kinds of Irish: lace curtain and bog.
In my family, we recognize a third:
CRAZY Irish.
Slainte Mhath anyhow.
Franklin,
Im the Hungarian of the irisheyesknitters.blogspot.com. I love the Irish, but not so much the American-Irish second generation or third. I can make a mean soda bread though, lots of carawey in our recipe.
I've got a great story about Ireland and sheep that I'd like to share.
It was the winter of 2004, and Meg and I were meandering through County Sligo. Being that our vacation destinations were driven primarily by which pub session we wanted to end up at when the day was through, we had to occupy our daytime hours with something. This particular day we chose Carrowkeel, a set of passage tombs in the southern part of the county.
First of all, I have to tell you that we followed all of the signs to get there, yet each sign stated that the distance to travel was greater. I think we started off at 3km and ended up with a sign that said 6km. The last sign was a piece of hand-carved wood nailed onto a tree that simply pointed to the right.
Driving about a quarter mile down the road brought us to a gate with no signage. Puzzled, we sat there for about five minutes until we realized that Irish people aren't nearly as possessive about their land as us Americans, and that the intention was that you came in but closed the gate behind you to keep the sheep in. Another 500 meters down the road were signs for Carrowkeel. These tombs are apparently on some farmer's land, because there we were, surrounded by sheep, climbing around these rock formations.
The best part, though, was that it was mid-morning and a thick layer of fog had settled on the upper part of the hills. It was incredibly beautiful and other worldly, and we didn't see another soul anywhere in Carrowkeel. It was an absolutely awesome experience.
So, happy St. Patrick's Day.
Well, all my Irish ancestry was protestant (though I've apparently got distant cousins in Cork who are a wealthy political family, and Catholic - go figure), and being in South Carolina we were far removed from the Irish-American enclaves, so it was never a huge holiday for us. Our Calvinist background kept the drinking to a minimum, too. Still, I think I may get me one of these to wear next year. :-D
Historical note: the Troubles weren't religiously defined at the beginning. Robert Emmet, may his memory be a blessing, was a protestant, and his leiutennant in the 1803 Rising, Anne Devlin, was a Catholic. The Troubles were a revolt against the second Act of Union of 1800. It is, indeed, quite sad that what was and is at its heart a nationalist struggle has been hidden under the cloak of religious ideology.
Sorry...my family feels very stongly ont he issue...every generation of our family has a boy named Robert Emmet.
fwrdllye is my word verification...that soundls like a Welsh word to me!
I'm first gen German. I don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day. I celebrate Steuben Day.
I went out last night for dinner and had a rare and handy Cosmopolitan.
Why eat corned beef and cabbage when you could have sauerbraten and sauerkraut?
Makes me wonder how they would know if someone gay was in the parade.
Screw them! Come down to Philly for the Mummer's parade. It's mostly an Italian-American thang, but everyone would be too drunk to notice another group of men wearing sequins and feathers. ;)
Erin go baaaa! Yay! You never fail to bring a smile to my day. I'm Irish (ok, Irish, Scottish, Polish & Czech), but usually disgusted with the boring (and often exclusive) parades and public drunkenness that seem to be the hallmark of St. Patty's Day here.
On a different topic, it's 99% sure that I'll be in Chicago next Friday to Sunday (3/24-3/26). Any interest in sharing a coffee or at least maybe giving me some tips on good LYS to check out? Feel free to comment on my blog or email me at sneaksleep AT hotmail DOT com if you have a sec. :-)
I don't know how I got to your blog... I started somewhere and ended up here... anywho, I laughed until I peed (childbirth x 3 will do that to a girl). There is a definate lack of wit in this world and I am pleased to have found another blog to begin my day with.
Dolores would fit right in where I work. If she ever needs long term care.... give her my name.
Beg to differ TOTALLY about the Mummers. Not at all even remotely mostly Italian in nature or origin.
Mummering is a big deal in many Celtic countries, including Newfoundland.
The Mummers of Philly are of many different backgrounds.
I knew alot of them as a child, as my grandfather played the banjo in Aqua.
He was born in Germany, but many of his crew were Irish.
Not that being an Italian thing would be bad, mind you.
It's just that Mummering in Philadelphia ISN'T an Italian thing.
As a good Scottish Presbyterian, from a family of teetotallers, I'm like, St Patricks day, whats that all about ????
Did you hear what St Patrick said to the snakes as he drove them out of Ireland ? - You boys alright there in the back ??
(I know, I know it's not a good one, but its the only St Patricks joke I know)
My maiden name is Northern Irish, although I was born in Scotland. I suspect that sometimes I'm an asshole, too!
Um, there was a point to this comment, I'm pretty sure, but my train of thought just left the station ...
Here in Sydney Australia, St Pat's Day is often nothing more than an excuse for people to get drunk on Guinness. Apparently there's a parade but I've never met anyone who's gone to watch it, much less march in it.
The G&L Mardi Gras parade, on the other hand, gets thousands of people from all over the world (as you'll no doubt know :-)
I think I like this prioritisaton...
Despite memories of past St Pattys Days, Franklin, I hope this one was a good one for you. It sure was for me! That evening I had dinner with a friend whom I hadn't seen for much too long of a time. During the course of the evening, I realized what a rare and wonderful friend he is.
I'm not Irish, but apparently my Viking ancestors gave the Irish their red hair. Wasn't that nice of them?
Well, the little bit of Irish in me–through my great-uncle whose last name is McDermott, and my great-great grandmother through mis-adventure–I wish you Happy St. Pat's day.
I'm not big on the day, as the snakes represent the Celtic religions that were surpressed.
And since I have too much yarn already, I'm down with the pot of gold!
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