Ah! Saint Patrick’s Day.
This is the day when we grant all our politicians and their families and friends a foreign holiday in the country of their choice. We pay, of course. It’s the least they deserve.
Out Teashop MeHole as usual has slithered off to Washington where for one day he can pretend he is Vice-President of the Free World. Sadly he has come down with a dose of the Virus. Bummer! Fortunately he did have a chance to talk to Yer Man, the leader of Ukraine where he assured him that the Irish where all proxy Ukranians. I wonder if that will make a difference? Will the Ukranian army fight all the harder knowing they have our Teashop’s blessing? Maybe.
Here at home most Irish will barricade themselves in their homes while the streets are infested with tourists. I suppose a few will head off to the pub early to grab a table before the tourists all flock in to try their mandatory pint of Guinness.
Dublin of course is a no-go area. The streets are taken over by American marching bands, high-school cheerleaders and marching groups all representing just about every alternative diversity. There will also be an obligatory marching group of American firemen or police or both. There will be sporting clubs no doubt and of course the Gay Pride have marked their spot. Ironically the one group not represented in the Great Parade is a group representing the Plain People of Ireland.
I sometimes wonder what tourists make of us Irish. Are they amazed that we no longer live in thatched cottages with a pig in the parlour? Do they really think we wear big floppy green hats. So they search the fields for non-existent leprechauns? We must be a big disappointment with ne’er a Begorra to be heard in casual conversation.
Me? I shall just treat today like any other day.