On St. Patrick’s Day, everybody’s Irish. Those that know their roots proclaim them loudly, and those that don’t, at least manage to wear green so as to avoid getting pinched. I remember back in 4th grade, Gilbert forgot to wear green, and was liberally pinched by many. He was a good sport about it, but I bet he didn’t forget the following year.
We generally celebrate the Week of St. Patrick’s, starting with decorating our front porch (Buck, our animatronic deer always looks dashing), and then culminating the day of with corned beef and cabbage when we can get it, and something equally pleasing when we can’t.
Gotta have Murphy’s, though. There are those rapscallions who will try to convince you that Guinness is the only beer worth having when you’re going Irish. Not so. Murphy’s is equally dark, but not as heavy or bitter, and goes down as smooth as a glass of milk. On second thought, go ahead and stick with Guinness…just means more Murphy’s for the rest of us.
The Wearin’ of the Green is the main thing, though. Whether you claim Irish heritage or not, raise a glass on the 17th for the auld country, all the fair lads and lasses, and most of all: Slàinte!