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mórán cainte ar bheagán cúise
03/13/2007 = 06:15 AM

When I was a tiny kid, the Mom was as Irish-Catholic as a Jewish-American woman can get away with.

One of her closest friends, G, was (and is) überIrish, if such a term isn't patently silly, what with its Teutonic prefix and Ulster-Scots suffix.

In our china cabinet, alongside the menorah, Elijah cup, and seder plate, stood a ceramic leprechaun named Sammy.

On March 17th, she wore green, often embellishing her ensemble with an Irish lace handkerchief, pinned with a shamrock-shaped brooch.

She didn't drink green beer, but only because she doesn't really care for beer that much anyway; plus, the Mom - slash - chemist - slash - nutritionist in her points out that "I don't care how rank your breath is, no one needs that much chlorophyll in a single serving."

All of this changed in the mid- to late 1980s, and, yes, it was a matter of Pride, and no, not the song by U2.

At that time, in the United States, a few people made the following statements, paraphrased and bulleted for your convenience:

• It's okay for gays and lesbians to be gay and lesbian.
• It's okay for gays and lesbians to be Irish.
• It's okay for them to march in the St. Patrick's Day parade.
• It's okay to not be Irish and march in the St. Patrick's Day parade.
• It's okay, if you're members of organizations, to march in formation with your organizations and advertise your organizations on banners or floats, even if you and/or your organizations are not Irish.
• Unless your organization has to do with being gay and/or lesbian.

In order to "justify" all of the above without seeming to be anti-gay, the Knights of Saint Patrick issued a statement saying that St. Patrick's Day was a religious holiday only for observant Catholics (italics mine).

< someone else's opinion alert>
Since gays and lesbians, of course, could never be considered observant Catholics
< /someone else's opinion alert>

this got them off the hook, PC-wise.

The Mom then said, "What they were saying to me — even though I might not be the one they were targeting — was, 'We will take your money, Jewish woman, but you are not welcome to our parade.'" You can read her whole bit about that here.

Since then, she'll wear green on the 16th or the 18th, but not the 17th.

Sammy is still in her china cabinet, but only because he's cute.

And if you know the Mom, you'll know that she still loves her friend G, but tends to be a little more open about what a pain in the ass the woman is.

On the one hand, I know where she's coming from. Everyone else is permitted to be proud of their organizations, no matter what their agendas are, in this parade. The Mom is showing solidarity with her gay friends, and with my gay friends, and I salute her for that.

I personally think all agendas ought to be banned from the parade. Make it an equal playing field, as it were. If this group cannot carry a banner, then neither can that group, nor can the other group.

But that's just my opinion, and I'm probably wrong.

And before you fly on in here to tell me I am, let me remind you of one very important point.

I have my own beliefs about a lot of things, including homosexuality, Irish-Catholicism, and green beer. Sometimes, I speak my mind; more often, I curb that tendency. That is because, while I like my theories. I also like yours, whatever they are.

The very important point I'm making here is that I make an effort to be open-minded. Do me the courtesy of behaving the same toward me.

Now we get to the other hand.

As I said, on the one hand, I understand the Mom's righteous indignation, and I side with her wholeheartedly on the green beer issue, but mostly because they tend to put the chlorophyll into the most watery, narsty, domestic, cheap-ass beer available.

On the other hand, I still like being Irish for the day.

I like living in a country where some people do try as hard as they can to rebel against their religious upbringings and innate senses of us-versus-them to allow others to participate, even a little bit.

I like U2 (uno, dos, tres, catorce notwithstanding), and the Dropkick Murphys, and various other Celtic-centric bands and artists.

I like Danny Boy, though I prefer the Harry Connick, Jr. arrangement to the old-fashioned fuddy-duddy Bing Crosby recording.

I like the strong coffee in the sugared glass, and I like the black-labeled Bushmill's blended therein, and I like the freshly whipped cream and the delicious warmth that could chip away the iciness of the harshest March wind.

(I'm not averse to a shot of Dew, either.)

Mostly, I like Guinness, and I like Bass, and I like the one at the bottom and the other floated gently above it, and I like the shamrock sculpted into the soft cloud of foam riding atop.

And I like green.

I don't particularly like parades. As a spectator, I can't get a clear vantage point, and as a participant, my clearest vantage point is generally of the jiggly arse of the person in front of me.

But, I like the film The Quiet Man.

Therefore, at 3:00 pm Eastern Time on the 17th, I will be posting a toast in my own blog, probably only one sentence, using a green font, and then I will be watching The Quiet Man whilst drinking a black-and-tan, in the warmth and comfort (and freedom) of my own home.

You have freedom, too, and you are free to participate, or not, as much or as little as you like.

You're also free to tell me I'm "doing it wrong," and to tell me I will burn in the flames of Hell for not changing my beliefs and practices to match yours exactly.

Again, you're probably right, but then I'll be free to poke fun at you for building that kind of rage up in yourself over something this pointless.

How can anyone expect our species to create peace on an entire planet when we can't even agree on who gets to carry a banner down Main Street?

Tags: St. Patrick's Day

drinking: coffee
listening to: nothing
no matter what happens: i will never like notre dame