10 Wacky Reasons I love Saint Patrick’s Day Even Though I am Not Irish.

St Patty’s Day is a holiday that I can really get behind. I apologize in advance as I’m sure I will be offending Catholics, Irish People, and a bunch of drunks simultaneously. I am sincere. Well, as sincere as one can get when discussing things like little green fairies and dyed milkshakes.

My thoughtless mother would often forget to dress me in the appropriate colors. As a Jewish kid named Cindy Greenberg, I used the lame excuse of “the green is in my name” when asked where was my green. 

I never went as far as dangly shamrock earrings and leprechaun sweatshirts, but I would don an olive or kelly green sweater when I remembered.

At the approach of my favorite holiday, that I do not officially celebrate, I put together a list of all the reasons I smile on March 17th.

1. Irish Potatoes 

Irish potatoes, also known as a heart attack in a box, are reason enough to love this holiday. 

2. Irish Spring

Yes, this is a soap manufactured in Ohio, and odds are St Patrick didn’t even use soap. Not a jab at the guy’s grooming habits, just a fact of the times. It was one of the stupidest commercials ever, as it was just plain awful and culturally incorrect. As a ten-year-old, I was far from woke, but I still cringed at the fake Irish accent that ended with the words “Manly yes, but I like it too.” 

3. Leprechauns and Trap Building

I don’t know anything about leprechauns except what I’ve seen on a box of Lucky Charms. However, that didn’t stop me from adopting every goofy tradition to entertain my kids. I put green food coloring in the toilet and made a green pancake or two. In the middle of a snowstorm, my kids and the neighbors rustled up some cardboard boxes, string, and whatnot and turned our mildew and bee gathering swingset into a trap. It seems a little cruel, but with years behind me, I don’t think my kids ever expected to catch the leprechaun. They just knew mom would traipse out at midnight and leave candy and a supply of Oriental Trading Company crap inside it for them. 

 4. I Do Not Like Green Eggs ….but I Love Corn Beef and Cabbage

 There may be some genetic connection to why I love this dish. Irish immigrants almost exclusively bought their meat from kosher butchers. And what we think of today as Irish corned beef is actually Jewish corned beef thrown into a pot with cabbage and potatoes. It is still way better than any deli sandwich I have ever eaten.

5. Shamrocks and Four-Leaf Clovers

Most idiots do not know the difference between a shamrock and a four-leaf clover. Big idiot number one here as I assumed a shamrock was a four-leaf clover, and I thought my reason sound. Shamrocks bring good luck, and four-leaf clovers are supposed to be lucky as they are hard to find. The actual belief is that shamrocks became the symbol of Ireland when St Patrick used them as a metaphor for the Holy Trinity. 

6. Green Chicago River, Green beer and Shamrock Shakes

Some think this holiday is stepping over the line with the color-changing liquids. 

 According to The Chicago Sun-Times, in 1962, a bunch of plumbers devised a system to keep track of where pollution seeped into the Chicago river by throwing a bunch of green dye in the water. The water turned a very non-marine shade of neonish green, and lo and beheld it became a St. Patty tradition.

The green beer was supposedly invented by a coroner in NYC and was an iron powder mild poison called wash blue. Thankfully now our bartenders just throw in some green food coloring.

Paydirt was hit with the Shamrock Shake. It is heaven in an unhealthy-overprocessed-chemical -and possibly some dairy-filled cup.

7. March of the Drunks 

Working on Wall Street in the 90s, no one needed an excuse to drink. But when a good one came, watch out. If you go to the NYC St Patrick Day Parade site, you will see information about a fun-filled family event. That is not the event I participated in and then avoided, like the potato famine, for many years. During my first year in NY, I followed my co-workers and headed up to the parade. I stepped out of the subway station in my Ally McBeal too-short suit and hadn’t taken one breath of alcohol-fumed air when a greenfaced man stomped on a full beer can and spray-soaked me. That was the tamest part of the afternoon.

8. No Snakes on These Plains.

Thank you, St. Patrick. Although this list is in no particular order, this one is the most important to me. I’m sure that banning snakes from Ireland is what made Patrick a saint. Although some rumors are floating around that Ireland never had snakes, to begin with, this guy moves up to top dog saint, in my opinion.

9. The Pub Crawl

If I went on one at this stage of my life, it would be pathetic. However, in my younger days, when drinking and driving was a thing, the Pub Crawl was the bomb. Riding around in some type of multi-passenger vehicle, to call it a bus, may have been a bit too optimistic, with friends or soon-to-be friends, was a great way to spend an evening. There had to be six to eight stops, but I’d be hard-pressed to name any of the bars after the third shot of whatever green-colored- below-the-shelf brand alcohol they were passing out.

10. The Blarney Stone

 I was excited to visit Blarney Castle. How can you not love a castle that’s name means skillful flattery or nonsense. I’m always up for a tourist attraction and participating in a folklore or two. I assumed kissing the Blarney stone was no different than kissing a Mezuzah when entering a room. Quick kiss of the hand and touch the stone and top of the morning to you. Not quite.

In this germaphobe pandemic world, we live in now, this activity will seem like a death wish. It was a little death-defying. I’ve been told it has been updated with safety precautions, but the changes happened years after my visit. My memory may be a bit hazy as I can’t promise there was no Bushmills in my bloodstream. It began with the climbing of a tower. At the top, you lay down on your back and hang over the edge while a 97-year-old man holds your ankle, and you kiss the rock on the other side of the gazillion feet gap. It sounds like a frat hazing event, but no, this was my attempt to receive the gift of gab. Guess it worked. 

Since most of this silliness was started in the United States, the fair Emerald Isle keeps her dignity. It is interesting to note that until 1970, pubs were closed by law in Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day. It was initially a day about religion and family. To most, it still is, to some, it’s a drinkfest, but to me, it’s a whimsical and magical day.

We are all Irish on Saint Patrick’s Day! Erin Go Bragh-less!!! Or maybe not.

Ireland is where strange tales begin & happy endings are possible.

Charles Haughey