I remember being excited about St. Patrick’s Day as a kid because our janitorial staff painted leprechaun footprints all over the desks and chalkboards the night before. We would get to school and be “so lucky!” if our desk had been picked to receive foot prints. Then we’d scrape the footprints off with our fingernails as the day wore on. I struggled to find the one green thing in my wardrobe. I still have a very small amount of that color. It’s not my color.
And that is all.
I have never made a conscious effort (that I remember) to observe St. Patrick’s Day in my household. I am not Irish, nor do I have a particular affinity for anything Irish. I do think I saw part of the parade last year, but that might have been a right place-right time situation. I certainly didn’t overly plan to attend, bake soda bread, or wait for hours on the sidewalk for the best seat.
This year Lolly in particular was extremely interested in observing St. Patrick’s Day. She even insisted that she was WHOLE Irish even though her Dad was half Irish (not a bit of truth in that statement). For weeks the girls hoarded their very few green clothes and deemed them OFF LIMITS until today.
I saw that Fresh Direct was offering up some very basic Irish food, so I ordered some to make our St. Patrick’s Day meal and I pulled together a green outfit and slapped on some green eye shadow to show Posse Solidarity.
Today was such a beautiful day I walked for several hours observing all the crazy people who celebrate this day. I noticed there are three groups of celebrators:
Group 1: Wearing green and Aran sweaters, Claddagh rings. I see them wearing these authentically Irish wares and think that they must refer to Ireland and their Irish temperaments over dinner, many an evening. Also included in this group is anyone wearing a formal kilt or carrying bagpipes. They take their heritage seriously and they respect it. I even overheard a couple on a train discussing the need to bring a baked good to church on Sunday, and they argued about whether soda bread would keep until Sunday, she of course offered up: Freeze It, with a “duh” tone to her husband.
Group 2: Thinks today is Halloween. They don junky plastic mardi gras beads, crazy hats, crazy socks, light-up whozits and whatzits, dye their hair and carry around snapple bottles that are really filled with something else. I saw a girl with green fishnets and black briefs and a green t-shirt…that’s it. It’s just another holiday that allows for hoochiness. These are the folks that bring out all the cops in Central Park. Seriously, I have been running over there in CP for a little while now, and should probably be scared for my safety for the lack of cops, but NOT today. EVERY. WHERE. This group also flooded Times Square today. They started drinking at 8 am, and tomorrow I will avert my eyes from the piles of puke on the subway platforms. They are not Irish. (maybe some of them are).
Group 3: We knew it was St. Patrick’s Day and wore the only green thing we own, just because.
I did attempt an Irish accent and catchphrase a few times today, and the girls made up a little slogan: “Don’t wear green, get a pinch, WEAR green, get a kiss.” I don’t think they got kissed today, but they offered me one on each cheek. I also netflixed gnome-mobile because some website told me it was one of the top 10 movies for St. Patricks Day. They had already seen Darby O Gill and the little people (Sean Connery! hilarious) and gave it two thumbs down. I’ll let you know if it’s a hit. Luck o the Irish to ya!