La'Fheile Pa'draig Sona Duit 2013

Posting for St Patrick's Day has become something of a tradition here at "Just Blowing Smoke", and it would seem almost sinful not to continue the custom of taking note of an Irish holy day, even when it occurs on a Sunday.  Now all good Irish Catholic lads (and most of us old codgers) live in the fear of the hellfire that they so richly deserve.  I therefore, will at least make a minor act of contrition and posting once more on a issue of religious relevance (and historical as well) as my normal Saturday offering.

As I did last year, I've included a sample of Kansas City's favorite Irish band "The Elders" from last year's annual "Hoolie", knowing full well that they will be holding this grand event again at the Uptown Theater once again this evening. (Hopefully, sharing their talent with my sometimes growing, but often rather twisted group of readers will meet with their blessing.  If not, I have no doubt they'll be 'wigs on the green' for sure.) 

So now though it seems it was just a moment ago, here we are; and it's time once again for this humble scribbler born of Irish origins to wish all of you that most glorious of annual salutations:

La'Fheile Pa'draig Sona Duit

Now for those unfamiliar with the ancient Hibernian tongue, I have in fact wished you, individually, a Happy St. Patrick's Day in Gaelic. (The phrase is pronounced "La ale-lah pwad-rig son a ditch".)       

St Patrick is of course, the patron saint of 'The Island of Saints and Scholars', more commonly known as Ireland (pronounced 'areland). The Island of Eire, as it's known in its native tongue is also known as the Emerald Isle, from the regular and abundant rains which produce a countryside dominated by the same lovely shade of green as its crystalline namesake. More fortuitously tomorrow on the day for those who celebrate it however, it's the land where Irish monks first created the nectar of the gods more commonly known as Whiskey (probably as a defense against the rigors of their chosen monastic lifestyle); and for the production of the finest offering of the brewer's art ... Guinness. 

(Actually, there's a long standing rumor that it was God Himself who created whiskey; and the monks, to their shame, decided to take credit for it.  For those of you wondering, it's also said that the original purpose of this blessed beverage was to keep the Irish from conquering the world.  Whether you believe the truth of such a tales of not, you have to admit that so far it's succeeded.) 

St Patrick himself is said not to have followed quite so strict a path as his later monastic brethren to their heavenly reward, instead choosing a rather more tortuous one; walking a fine line between angering the Celtic heathens he sought to convert and the incurring the ire of the Church he sought to serve.  And since this is ostensibly a day held in celebration of his labors, it would seem all but rude not to recount at least in brief some of his history.

Patrick is in fact quite curious as patron saints go, even Irish ones. Of course this might have something to do with the fact that he wasn't Irish at all, but English instead. He first came to Ireland in chains as a captured slave (which is the manner in which the Irish are said to be most fond of entertaining their sometimes overbearing British neighbors). He escaped his captivity after some six years however and returned to his home in Britain, eventually becoming a deacon, taking his ordination vows as a priest, and later still becoming a bishop. He then returned to Ireland as a Catholic missionary, working mostly in the north and the west of the island. Very little can be proved of the places where he preached and labored, though legends abound of the places he did his teaching and the miracles he performed while carrying out his chosen vocation. 

This missionary work ultimately proved a successful one, and the country remains largely a Catholic one to this day. And while the model of the Catholic Church that he worked toward did not come about while he was alive or even as a result of his labors, he was nevertheless named the Patron Saint of Ireland by the eighth century.

Now Irish tradition holds that St Patrick used the Shamrock's shape to teach the heathen peoples of the island the Catholic mystery of the Holy Trinity, which may explain its popularity as a symbol today. This tale may be more an example of the Irish flair for the 'telling of a good tale" than one of actual doctrinal education however, as accounts of the use of this three-leafed white clover only began to appear in popular myth centuries after his death.

The noted Irish knack for exaggeration and overstatement might likewise be held responsible for the famous accounts of St Patrick chasing the snakes from Ireland's shores, since there have never been snakes in Ireland. (In defense of such myths, it should noted that the Irish seldom let the truth get in the way of a good story.) 

Regardless of the legendary nature of his time on earth (excused as perhaps no more than a wee bit of Blarney), or the fact that he was never formally canonized by the Catholic Church, we nevertheless celebrate his feast day every year on March 17th, the date believed to be that of his death in 493.  

(Now such a lengthy retelling of St Patrick is enough to make a man's mouth like a dry crust; which is to say that it creates a powerful thirst in a man.  If for no other reason, this alone would no doubt constitute sufficient reason to stop off at the pub for a pint or two. It might even be said that this affinity undoubtedly accounts in large part for the relationship between the festivities being celebrated around the world and fond telling of tales about the man himself.  It could have nothing to do of course, with fondness the Irish have for a pint or a 'touch of the Irish'.) 

As I have pointed out on previous occasions here, March 17th is also the birthday of one of my grandchildren, Margaret Ruth Tipatina Demaria. So in her honor let me say as well, "lá breithe sona Maggie".  "Maggie Moo Kropotnik", will be turning seven on this day of ancestral family revelry if my often failing memory still serves me correctly. Rumor has it that they will once again be holding parades in New York City (near where she lives) and in Chicago (where my own roots are) in celebration of this more recent, but equally blessed event.

Strange as it may seem, you will probably not find me making a pub crawl locally on this traditional Irish 'feast day'. For while personal considerations indeed make it a day worthy of all manner of celebration, as I tend to avoid the crowds often attendant to the occasion for fear of losing my professional standing in the enjoyment of Ireland's ethanol-based treasures (though I admit to being rather tempted to make my way down to the 'hooley'  tonight). 

In the spirit of the myth and the man however, I am persuaded at the very least, to offer an Irish toast for all of you on this the eve of that day of days for the Demaria clan, for the O'hUig'in clan (the ancestral name of the Higgins), and for that paragon of Irish virtue (such as it is) ... St Patrick. It's a sentiment that should speak to all those who've read enough of their history to know how truly lucky they are to consider themselves Irish; and may even have a bit of a message to those who can only feel so blessed during this blessed time of the year:

May the road rise up to meet you

May the wind be always at your back

May the sun shine warm upon your face

And the rain fall soft upon your fields

And until we meet again

May God hold you in the palm of His hand

And may you live in peace and freedom

All of this may be a bit much for those of you who've long sing begun to pickle yourself through the consumption of green Anheuser-Busch or Miller products in what is undoubtedly a heartfelt, but terribly misguided form of Celtic revelry.  Surely then it will be far beyond the comprehension of those of you who have instead graduated to Car Bombs far too early in the day. (A Car Bomb is a shot of Irish whiskey dropped into a pint of Guinness, with the name coming from the effect that drinking such a concoction in one long swallow normally has on the consumer's brain.) 

So for you hooligans let me offer instead a far more simple effort that you're likely still to comprehend:

"May you be in heaven for two hours before the devil knows you're dead!"

Slainte'

March Terror Alert: IRISH

As I have oft times stated, the Department of Just Blowing Smoke Security (DJBSS) works tirelessly to root out potential terrorists threats in this nation. (OK, so I lied ...)  So maybe not tirelessly, but they do a pretty fair job when we can actually sober them up and get their heads out of jumbo-sized bags of Cheetos randomly scattered about the attic that we keep them locked in.  Their efforts  have in fact done quite an astonishing job over the years of notifying the public about impending threats from organizations that few, if any, has ever heard of before. (And in spite of the lack of credit that they are given and the  low esteem in which they are held, including by me, they have still proved more effective in threat protection for this country than the TSA.)

For some strange reason, they slipped out an alert last night from under the door to their headquarters / research center (the previously mentioned attic) for March, while February has yet a few days remaining. While advance warning is always a valuable asset, and not that this notification (unlike the last one) couldn't be considered a legitimate report of a potential threat; but once again it presents an uncomfortable situation where the organization in question is concerned.  

For the second time in as many months, the threat in question comes from a group to which I retain a membership.  While there was a brief discussion as to whether an actual warning needed to be issued, in the end the Editorial Staff agreed that they had no authority to subvert the jurisdiction granted to the DJBSS.  (Unlike some organizations that I could name, we at "Just Blowing Smoke" recognize and fully accept the concept of the 'Separation of Powers'.)

Therefore an official terror alert is being issued against the IRISH. Now for those perhaps familiar with the nationality, but unfamiliar with this group; I am speaking of course of the Intoxicated Reprobates Indulging in St Patrick's Honor. 

While normally harmless, this bunch of miscreants does tend to raise a bit of a ruckus during the month of March, especially in the days surrounding the 17th, which to them is a combination of the rites of the Winter Solstice, Chinese New Years, Mardi Gras, the Fourth of July, and Christmas.

While this organization is always about (though most likely only noticeable when gathered in larger groups in Pubs around the country), it tends to become more visible in the month of March, becomes downright hard to miss as the middle of the month approaches, and it becomes damned near impossible to keep from tripping over their alcohol-anesthetized forms on the 16th and 17th.  Have no fear of them however.  They will likely be pursuing their own arcane rituals, which though you may find them occasionally bizarre and completely without logic or reason, pose no immediate threat to you. Most will in fact be preoccupied with other IRISH members, and are likely to be paying you little if any heed. 

(I could of course, attempt to explain the logic and reason behind those rituals, so as to clear up this little problem for you; but doing so would likely cause me to suffer the immediate loss of a membership I treasure for no better reason than your peace of mind.  Not a chance ...)  

You should be aware that while you may run into a number of cells of this organization during this mid-month period, you may also run into groups of look-alike IRISH. While ostensibly carrying the general appearance of  members, they are in fact merely poor copies content to wear silly T-shirts and lighted shamrocks with the names of American beer companies on them in a misguided attempt to pay homage to the spirit of ceremonies that they clearly don't understand.  Since such groups constitute little more than twisted shadows of the original and often have a great number of misconceptions as to the rituals of the true organization, confronting them or participating in the rites of such faux assemblages should be done only at your own risk.
 
Now while they can be boisterous at times, real IRISH tend to be prone to bouts of lyrical pontification and melancholy singing rather than the fisticuffs of popular legend.  This is especially true later in the day after the 'Indulging' part of their organization's name has been participated in long enough to allow the 'Intoxicated' part to come into full bloom.  While they can be a bit touchy if the subject of the English is brought up in conversation, such danger can usually be averted by quickly offering to buy them a drink.

Do not however:

1. Attempt to convince them that the green versions of Anheuser Bush or Miller products are in fact 'IRISH Beer'. The Coors product Killian's also falls under this category in spite of its name, and is best not mentioned.
2. Attempt to buy them one of these beers, or a 'whiskey' made in Scotland, Canada, Kentucky, or Tennessee.  While they might gladly accept such an invitation any other time, partaking of such beverages during these holy days of obligation is a strict violation of rules, and more ... a mortal sin that would damn their souls for eternity.
3. Attempt to convince them that whiskey was first invented by the residents of  Scotland.
4. Tell them that you don't like to drink Guinness unless it's "really, really cold". 
5. Attempt to convince them that the bagpipe is in fact a Scottish instrument, since they know better and may seek to prove it by finding one and playing it.
6. Ask them if the IRISH are a belligerent race, as carried away in a spirit of holiday giving, they may feel compelled to oblige you, in spite of their better instincts. 

For those of you who feel inclined to report the appearance of one of these cells or any incidents by them that might occur, you're more than welcome to contact the DJBSS at 1-800-RAT-BUTT; but it's likely that you'll have to leave a message. The odds favor the fact that none of the DJBSS staff will be in the office, though some of them will probably be a part of the group that you're trying to report.  (Attempts to report such incidents in person to the DJBSS are likely to meet with the same reaction as bringing up the subject of the English, so if you do so, keep your wallet handy.)   

Therefore, in light of the limited threat that the IRISH pose, and in honor of their upcoming annual celebration, the terror threat for this period will be placed at GREEN.