St. Patricks Day
I'm leaving aside the actual religious observance entirely. That's for church ladies or actual people in actual Ireland who have it as a holy day of obligation (somehow?). St. Patrick. Kinda a cool guy. Had a neat hat, came up with cute metaphors about weird theology, intimidated some druids. Whether you're pro- or anti-druid, you gotta admit one Welshman with a stick getting rid of a bunch of badasses who liked to paint themselves blue and sacrifice virgins is pretty impressive.
Nah, not here about St. Patrick the dude. This isn't really about Irish history and religion, interesting a topic as that is.
This is about the purely secular and usually really stupid St. Patrick's Day celebrations. I think I'mma have one. On the day itself or Friday, doesn't matter much to me. (It's not like I ever go to bed on time on Friday anyway.) This calls for corned beef and cabbage. I've been poking around for recipes for crock pots, since that would make my life pleasantest. Many of them include turnips. I don't like turnips. They taste like God is kind of miffed with you. I find it amusing that we're so dedicated to this meal, since what it is is bar food, rather than any tradition of weight and grandeur, but I honestly like it, so corned beef and cabbage it shall be!
And of course, there will be beer. And maybe cider? Dunno. I'm deffinitely having Guinness or Murphy's, and maybe I'll have a blond or redhead to go with that brunette. No Irish whiskey, please. The Irish do not drink it. They drink Scotch. There is a reason.
Soda bread, mayhaps? Problem with soda bread is it's a pain to make, and I am not a good baker. And I don't have a good oven. And soda bread really must be eaten fresh, or it moves quickly from pretty ok to nasty.
So there's my dinner. But I can't really figure out what else to do. I am not a one for wearing unfunny green t-shirts and sparkly green hats (well, actually, I'd totally wear the latter, but not for a particular occasion. More just because) and attending loud, crowded parties. I've never been able to enjoy such a setting. So I'm not going out to a bar, obviously.
Maybe I should have a small get-together at home? Only I don't know who'd come. Roommate will probably be off with his girlfriend (which is a reasonable thing to be), most Smithies will be off having Spring break, and I imagine most of my townie friends will either have plans of their own or not want to do anything.
Perhaps an Irish-themed rp oneshot? That might draw some folks in. I could probably manage that...
So that's one plan. I don't really have any others. Perhaps I should just dim all the lights and we can sing ballads. I have, for some reason, encyclodpedic knowledge of late-1800's Irish music hall songs and assorted ballads. They're all deeply depressing. Different levels of depressing, certainly. You have your inescapable downers, like Molly Malone or Danny Boy (Yes, that is an English song, but we'll leave it aside for now), which are about nothing but the tragic death of a loved one and the according sense of loss. You have your everyday dirges, like Kerry Dancing or The Gypsy Rover, respectively about the impermenance and irrecoverability of youthful joy and the abandonment of one's entirely life and family to follow a clearly irresponsible drea. And you have the ostensibly cheery, like Mrs. McGrath or The Minstrel Boy, with peppy tunes and lively lyrics. So peppy you barely notice that Mrs. McGrath's son has come back from a war in which he had no stakes maimed, or that the Minstrel boy in the original was consigned to a living hell of forced labor, his instrument destroyed. And even with the hopeful final verse, he returns "torn in body, not in spirit," so he's also maimed, apparently.
So everyone Irish is depressed all the time. Guess I'd be. If you go to Ireland for a week, after all, it'll rain twice. Once for three days, once for four days. And they expect you to eat suet with blood in it. That's a food. I'd be kinda depressed, too.
By the way, is anyone going to be about for possible saint's day shenanigans? You can listen to me sing Vaudeville songs, apparently, and drink beer.