Skipping St. Paddy's Day is not an option
by Pete Cunningham
*As printed March 12, 2008 in The Homer Index   

The Chicago River will soon be as green as the hills of the Emerald Isle, and millions will hoist similarly tinted mugs while dancing Irish jigs. St. Patrick’s Day is upon us my friends, and let me be the first to say, Erin go Bragh.

Although St. Paddy’s Day originated as an Irish/Catholic celebration of the patron saint who “drove the snakes” from the tiny British Isle, actually being Irish or Catholic has long since become irrelevant to the celebrations on March 17. Even if the most Irish thing you’ve ever done is watch Rudy or buy a box of Lucky Charms, chances are you celebrate St. Paddy’s Day. Jews, gentiles and USC fans alike are united by the message the holiday promotes: take a break, have a beer.

Of all the lectures, literature and sermons I’ve sat through, no message has ever been as important as those six words. It doesn’t take an hour (or a column) to explain, and takes even less to understand. Don’t dress it up, don’t talk it down. Take it for what it is. Take a break, have a beer.

The message is simple yet brilliant, as was the man who taught it to me years ago. I called him Papa, and for others who did the same, that voice and message still echoes today. As all who loved him found out two years ago, life is too short not to take those breaks. Life is too short not to have those beers.

The beers don’t necessarily have to be beers, and for those in high school or below, I’d like to encourage them not to be. Although a Budweiser with a pinch of salt was our favorite conversation catalyst, a box of crackers or cup of ice cream just as well sparked the stories of life, love and the in-betweens that led us to the chairs in which we sat. It was the break, not the barley, which was the key ingredient.

The voice, his voice, would often come at times when it was most inconvenient, be it in the middle of studying for exams or working on a project. In such instances the breaks would have to be delayed, but rest assured those are the kind of rainchecks that don’t go un-cashed. Of all the studying that such conversations interrupted and all the work such stories put a halt to, nothing was more important than what was eventually learned. Nothing was ever built stronger than that bond.

There was always something special about St. Patrick’s Day. A Scotsman himself, Papa had married into the Irish traditions and embraced them fully. Perhaps that was why our St. Patrick’s Day conversations centered on Grandma. The shirts and the beers weren’t enough; he wanted anyone who would listen green with jealousy as well.

For the first time since 1940, the Catholic archdiocese has “rescheduled” St. Patrick’s Day away from the 17th to the Saturday before; much more conducive to taking that break and having that beer. Even if you’ve never celebrated the holiday before, please, take advantage of this opportunity and seek out a bar with an O’ or a Mac in the title. Trust me, the fruits of your labor always taste sweeter with a little refreshment to wash them down.