In Honor of Saint Patrick

Today is a holy day. It is the feast of St. Patrick of Ireland. Kidnapped and forced into slavery in Ireland by foreign marauders, young Partricius had a rough go of it as a young lad. Somehow, however, he escaped. From that point, he became a Christian, became a priest, became a Bishop, and through tireless missionary work, is credited with converting the whole of Erin to Catholicism. Patrick was truly a man of faith, sacrifice and love.

In celebration of his life, I will take to the streets of New York later today. In tribute to him, I will be jostled by strangers in a bar packed to the bursting point with drunken revelers. While pondering his selfless life, I will stand next to a guy in a green Afro wig named Ike, who is pounding on the bathroom door and asking if the person inside “fell in”. In homage, I will lift many Guinness in his name, spilling an appropriate tithe of which on the front of my green shirt. With his pious words echoing in my mind, I will bellow the occasional “woooooo!” and “shots-shots-shots” and “has anybody seen my jacket?”.

May we all pay tribute in our own way, on this day, to Patrick: a man of God, an inspiration to millions, beatific champion of drunk people with green face paint, and patron saint of March 18th misery.