Saint Patrick’s Day…





St. Patrick’s Day…

The other day, someone recognizing my Hemi-Hibernian way, asked me what I did to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day. Daniel, Dan, Danny, Danny Boy, O Boyo, what did ya do? I said well, on Patrick, Pat, Patty, Paddy, his day, said naturally that I made it a point to stop at all green lights. I had to do my part despite my hectic schedule. I realized I did right, especially at intersections. Fresh from my accomplishment as a lip reader I plainly read “Pause for the Cause” via my rear view, side mirrors and even through me other 3 windows-why, I could almost hear it. Augmenting the vocal agreement were raised fists as well. The only thing that did throw me were the cherry-faced cherubics I occasionally spotted. But we all get a little excited on the holidays, no? Lost breath extinguishing the candles. I love to self-study and learned where lips go after reading “Loose Lips Sink ‘Em” and the companion tutor, “What’s a Fan to Say Where’s No Whrrr?” In Ireland wit is a currency of sorts. And people might recognize that I’ve been blessed a modicum of sorts. Why, back home very tax withholding itself is known as “Witholding”. Wit is Ireland’s biggest export. And, after many enjoyous traffic encounters, especially with those new to the commemoration, I headed home to my front turf. There, likened to the national tricolored flag of green, white and orange I proceeded to hoist my treasured pennant that day. I raised the mauve, blanche and bright yellow flag alerting that the corn beef, cabbage and accompanying mustard twas done.

Leave a Reply