Today is NOT St. Patrick's Day. It's the day before the Ides of March, and three days before St. Patrick's Day, which is Sunday.
I've mailed out my St. Patrick's Day cards, because I like sending cards and do so for plenty of holidays. (Valentine's Day,Paddy's Day, Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and - of course - Christmas. I just like sending cards, and most folks I know enjoy getting them.)There will be a shamrock on my windowsill, assuming that Roche Brothers has some on offer, which they usually do.
I'll be listening to Irish (mostly traditional) music, but I'm always listening to Irish (mostly trad) music.
I'll be baking soda bread which, admittedly, I pretty much only do this time of year. But since I make a lot of it, and always throw a loaf into the freezer, I do get to enjoy Aunt Margaret's Irish Soda Bread at least one other time during the year.
And maybe I'll make some colcannon this weekend, because it's never the wrong time for mashed potatoes.
But mostly I won't be doing much to celebrate. Sure, I'll find something green to wear on Sunday. But there'll be no green beer. No going to the parade in South Boston. No "Kiss Me I'm Irish" button.
But there's no getting around that I am Irish. A half-breed Irish American, but Irish none the less.
Ethnically, it's how I've always identified, probably because I grew up around the Irish half of the family, in a largely Irish-American neighborhood, was educated by largely Irish-American nuns. If I'd grown up around the German half of the family, my mother's family, would I have more of a German identity? Would polka music get to me the same way Irish music does? Would I bake stollen? Would I own a dirndl? Would the German half of my identity get at least half-time when it came to my ethnicity?
I atually don't think that being in Chicago would have been quite enough.
After all, I was a kid in the 1950's/1960's, when we weren't all that far away from World War II, a war which pretty much everyone's father had fought in. We watched old b&w movies on TV. Germans were Nazis. Nazis were bad. Who wanted to identify with being German?
Being Irish was, frankly, a lot more attractive an identity, one I've always been comfortable with, never more so than when I started making regular trips "home" to Ireland. Ireland is heart's home. Although I like Germany, and have enjoyed my trips there over the years, my visits there have in no way, shape, or form been equivalent to how I feel in Ireland.
In any case, I'll be wishing Happy St. Patrick's Day to those who observe it in any way, shape, or form.
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Over the years, Pink Slip has observed St. Patrick's Day by writing about my Irish (and German) identity. Here's a link to a roundup of those posts.
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