Enough Said

Roda Marie Catapang

Roda Catapang
City Times

After years of celebrating previous St. Patrick’s Days by chugging down green-dyed alcoholic beverages, raising pint glasses to the continuous cheers of “slainte,” and donning all that is green in my wardrobe, I considered forgoing the aftermath of an all-night carousal that results in the progressive slurring of speech and irregular ambulation.

It’s not that I’ve suddenly developed an opposition to celebrating this convivial holiday. It’s just that this year I have neither time nor funds to drink myself into a sickly green stupor.

My friends, however, are of a different opinion. “C’mon, it’s St. Patrick’s Day,” they all horn in. “Who doesn’t drink on St. Patrick’s Day?”

Well, at $9 a pint, you tell me.

Today’s economic climate makes it difficult to down a couple Guinness pints without dipping into your 401(k), and that’s only after you’ve signed over your stimulus check to pay for cover charges.

Still, I am tempted to slip on something green and showcase my version of the Irish jig, and I would hate to miss out on the welcoming warmth and friendliness of the Irish.

Their extension of kindness to those they come across is shown in their declaration that on St. Patrick’s Day everyone is Irish.

From Boston’s “Southie” gatherings, to Chicago’s emerald rivers and canals, and to our city’s own St. Patrick’s Day celebration taking place at Balboa Park, green revelers of all shapes, sizes, race and religion will be getting Irish-jiggy with it as they celebrate a holiday that has long since lost it’s religious beginnings and has become more a day of celebrating all that is Irish, including their ability to persevere through difficult times.

And if everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day, then maybe going out tonight and celebrating with friends is just what needs to happen.

After all, even during their own struggles with famine in Ireland, and coming to America to find themselves in still an impecunious situation, the Irish people persevered and found spirit enough to still celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

This year my pockets may be empty, my bills the height of skyscrapers, and my ability to recover from an inebriated state diminished.

But if Irish eyes are still smiling, even after the struggles they’ve seen, maybe I can find a way to find the Irish in me and join in the festivities this St. Patrick’s Day. Slainte!

(Roda Catapang is a City Times copy editor)