I woke up early this morning to the sound of my alarm clock thinking, “This is going to be a fantastic day. I’ll put on a green tee-shirt, watch a festive parade, eat massive quantities of corned beef and cabbage, look for four-leaf clovers and pots of gold, and visit my local pub for a wee bit of ice-cold Guinness.” A few seconds later, as I hit the snooze button, I realized it was Tuesday, and I had to go to work. “Wow, this really sucks,” I thought to myself.
I’ve often wondered why Saint Patrick’s Day always seems to fall on a weekday. I also haven’t figured out how a solemn and religious Catholic holiday, which celebrates a famous Saint who helped bring Christianity to Ireland, turned into a day of excessive drinking, making a fool of yourself, and being carried home by your friends at two in the morning. Kind of crazy don’t you think?
I guess it’s all in good fun. With all the problems in the world, maybe we all need a day where we can all join together as one. Someone once told me that on Saint Patrick’s Day, everyone is Irish. So, if you’re in a bar and you see a seven-foot tall African-American man with dreadlocks, wearing a bright green tee-shirt that says, “I’m from the Irish Hood,” do me a favor. Buy him a shot of Irish whiskey, or a pint of green beer, and say, “Patrick says hey.”