After St. Patrick's Day.

It's funny... St. Patrick's Day...

Two years ago (2004) I was living in Canterbury, England. It was England. So... You know, the whole "Irish Day of Celebration" that St. Pat's tends to be here in the States... Well, um... It's just not really a "big deal" like it is here. Anyhoo... I had just started dating My Lady and she and our friend Toby and I were asked by the Student Union Manager-guy to perform. We played folk instruments, and music... Can you play at our "St. Patrick's Day" party at the Student Union-Bar.

Toby (who was sort of "in charge" of our music-making at the time) said HELL YEAH.

Well... Toby's English, and rather likes the Blues. My Lady is Scottish, and knows her share of Scottish fiddling tunes... And I'm a Yank, with a fair amount of both Scottish and Irish tunes in my repertoire. However... I stress that "Toby was in charge." I couldn't play any Irish tunes, 'cause Toby didn't know them... And Fiona could've followed along, I suppose (she's pretty gifted) but really... If you're playing a mandolin, you're not meant to be taking the lead... The fiddler is... So... Yeah. We didn't PLAY any Irish music on St. Pat's. The Irish students were quite drunk, and got rather boisterous (which I really couldn't blame them for) and then finally got WAY the fuck out of hand.

Fiona ended the evening by punching a particularly RUDE IRISH FUCK in the face.

Bless her.

Anyhoo...

Last year... I thought I would head it off at the pass. I was ON the Student Union at that point, and offered to "DJ" for the St. Patrick's Day party. You see... I have a laptop, with ALL of my music on it... And when you just choose the "Irish" music, I have approximately 34 hours of continuous Irish music. If ANYONE could play six hours of nothing but Irish music in an English Pub... It would be me.

I did it. I kept them dancing the whole night... No fist fights (thanks to My Lady, the guys were very careful in 2005) and no issues. I had a GREAT freaking time... And I really miss my DJ-ing duties.

Och weel...

So... This year.

I stayed in, with Fiona. That's right... St. Pat's is also known as "Amateur Night" to all of us that regularly frequent Irish-pubs in the States. All the bars get a million people who aren't actually Irish (even by a tenuous ancestry) but of course... They are on St. Pats. They come in droves to pubs, ordering pint upon pint of "Irish Beer" (which to the uninitiated includes stuff like Bass Ale, and Newcastle Brown) and drink enough Jamieson's Irish Whiskey to float a parade-ground Float. (From my phone-cam):


Jamiesons Irish Whiskey bottles at Kieran's Irish Pub in Minneapolis... The night BEFORE St. Patrick's Day.

Anyhoo... It's awful. The great bands that you adore end up playing the same "Danny Boy" or "Whiskey in the Jar" over and over again for all the drunk morons that don't actually KNOW any other songs... It's just sick.

So... In the States... I tend to avoid the whole kit and kaboodle.

We stayed in, and watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

I hate Harry Potter... And that film didn't help him, AT ALL, in my mind... But My Lady and Mother just loved it.

Great.

So... Here's a few photos... Me, in my St. Patrick's Day gear:


Noice the nifty shamrock socks!

And Fi did the honours of cooking us really yummy cheese and spinach omelettes. (It's Lent, you know... No meat on Fridays)



Okay... I'm off. Lot's to do. Take it easy folks!

- Tuckmac