Peace and love

As you know, I am of the opinion that Saint Patrick’s Day is largely an Irish-American construct—the kind of thing an under-appreciated minority puts on to cock a snook at the majority. After all, you don’t really need to celebrate being Irish in Ireland because you’re in, well, you know, Ireland.

You do need to celebrate it in a culture that looks down on you as a jumped-up ignorant bunch of dirt-encrusted, drink-swilling lowlifes who take orders directly from the Pope and lower property values wherever you go.

So not surprising that someone decided to declare Saint Patrick’s Day an occasion for pretending to be Irish by going pub crawling, drinking green beer and singing rebel songs.

Whatever.

I myself don’t venture into bars or taverns on Saint Patrick’s Day because I don’t like mixing with all those amateur drinkers. But I can still express the sentiment with a song or two. For instance:

“The Back Door”, by Cherish the Ladies, an Irish-American band—one of my favorites. This song encapsulates the immigrant experience for me; they’re talking about the thousands who came over in the 70s and 80s during the last century, but you could extend it to a hundred years before, as well.

The line that has always resonated with me is, “I want my own bed, my own kitchen; I want my nights to myself.”

But I’ll also go back to the old country for something from the Clancy Brothers. Because it isn’t Irish until the Clancys have had their say.

You know how big I am on gratitude, so I’m giving you a song of Irish gratitude.

Sláinte.