No one was more fiercely Irish than my mother. And I mean that literally. She was not hesitant to let you know where she stood. Sometimes with her tongue. And sometimes with the back her hand.
Today is the day reserved to celebrate all things Irish. There will be green everywhere you look.
This used to amuse my mother. She would often remind us as kids that the origin of St. Patrick’s Day is in faith and the deep religious background of the Irish people, not drunken hooliganism.
She used to snicker that St. Patrick’s Day was the day when people who are not Irish wear green. Never seemed to stop her from piling on the shamrocks come March 17.
In general, I’m inclined to concur with her on this most Irish of holidays. I won’t be swilling green beer today. I don’t drink beer during Lent. And yes, it gets tougher every year. Only someone with an Irish sense of humor could manage to place St. Patrick’s Day in Lent every year.
I will think today of my mother and father, whose parents came to this country from Ireland. They loved their heritage; they just didn’t wear it on their sleeves.
Of course, not everyone celebrates in the same way. Me? I’m content to watch “The Quiet Man” again.
But a lot of people like to party in a bit more public manner. To that extent last Friday we listed the various events our local watering holes have set up to help us celebrate the holiday.
It wasn’t the listings that got me into trouble. Instead it was the headline that accompanied the story.
I winced as soon as I saw it. While I personally don’t necessarily subscribe to it, as I was first informed a few years back, some people believe that referring to “St. Paddy’s Day” is an ethnic slur.
And one son of the auld sod took the time to e-mail me and remind of just that. He first was effusive in his praise for the paper and the way we covered St. Patrick’s Day events in the county, including the annual parade in Springfield on Saturday.
While many simply use “Paddy” as an Irish version of Patrick, to others it conjures up images of the paddywagon, a slap at the image of the Irish as drunken carousers.
I once again assured him no harm was meant. And I will remind myself to make this point to my editors.
No doubt my mom would agree.
Today is the day reserved to celebrate all things Irish. There will be green everywhere you look.
This used to amuse my mother. She would often remind us as kids that the origin of St. Patrick’s Day is in faith and the deep religious background of the Irish people, not drunken hooliganism.
She used to snicker that St. Patrick’s Day was the day when people who are not Irish wear green. Never seemed to stop her from piling on the shamrocks come March 17.
In general, I’m inclined to concur with her on this most Irish of holidays. I won’t be swilling green beer today. I don’t drink beer during Lent. And yes, it gets tougher every year. Only someone with an Irish sense of humor could manage to place St. Patrick’s Day in Lent every year.
I will think today of my mother and father, whose parents came to this country from Ireland. They loved their heritage; they just didn’t wear it on their sleeves.
Of course, not everyone celebrates in the same way. Me? I’m content to watch “The Quiet Man” again.
But a lot of people like to party in a bit more public manner. To that extent last Friday we listed the various events our local watering holes have set up to help us celebrate the holiday.
It wasn’t the listings that got me into trouble. Instead it was the headline that accompanied the story.
I winced as soon as I saw it. While I personally don’t necessarily subscribe to it, as I was first informed a few years back, some people believe that referring to “St. Paddy’s Day” is an ethnic slur.
And one son of the auld sod took the time to e-mail me and remind of just that. He first was effusive in his praise for the paper and the way we covered St. Patrick’s Day events in the county, including the annual parade in Springfield on Saturday.
While many simply use “Paddy” as an Irish version of Patrick, to others it conjures up images of the paddywagon, a slap at the image of the Irish as drunken carousers.
I once again assured him no harm was meant. And I will remind myself to make this point to my editors.
No doubt my mom would agree.
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