Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day. Now, I'm not Irish, nor have I ever even been to Ireland, so by any right, I shouldn't even be celebrating. But for some reason, I have an affinity toward all things Irish. Whether it be their single-malt whiskey or their breathtaking castles, the Clancy Brothers and all the other Irish drinking songs, not to mention the literature. June 16 is the second day of the year I feel Irish.
Maybe not as much as Boston, New York is steeped in Irish tradition. The Fire and Police Departments are traditionally Irish. And then there are the pubs, my favorite haunts while living in New York were those small, dark, seedy Irish dives. The ones with the friendly bartenders, where the strangers sitting next to you are suddenly your friends because the Yankees just scored another home run. New York may not dye the East River green like they do in Chicago, they sure do throw a good parade. So I'll be thinking of those bagpipes and those shamrocks here in Israel.
And though I may not be too fond of Guinness, I raise my glass to you:
May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.
May your home be bright with cheer,
May your cares all disappear,
May contentment come your way,
And may laughter fill your day.
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.
May your home be bright with cheer,
May your cares all disappear,
May contentment come your way,
And may laughter fill your day.
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