Happy St. Patrick's Day

To everyone who is just a little bit Irish, at least on St. Paddy's Day, I raise a pint of the finest stout in a toast to the Emerald Isle and fellow Irish everywhere -- metaphorically, that is. The consumption of alcoholic beverages here in the office during work hours is frowned upon.

But it was not always so. My first job after high school was in a restaurant and bar called Huckleberry's -- long since closed and demolished, now a parking lot. My introduction to Guinness came from an Irishman who was putting them away like it was his job. The encounter forever changed my taste in beer.

"What is that?" "Guinness Stout -- try it" He offered me his freshly pulled pint and I was too curious to refuse. The customer is always right, after all. *Yum*. "That's really good." "It's delicious", he corrected me, "Drink a six pack of that and you'll shit black for a week." Charming. I wondered if that's how all of the Irish enticed you to drink with them.

As for my own nationality, I'm a potpourri of many things -- English, Irish, Scottish, Italian, French-Indian (Huron, maybe?) and German-Dutch. So I'm a mutt, but I'm a quarter Irish -- a pretty good percentage by American standards -- with some MacEntees and McGeehans in my family history.

Some years back, I had visited a friend in Chicago for the St. Patrick's Day parade. I remember it being cold, windy (of course) and the Chicago River was dyed its usual shade of green. The parade was terrific -- my favorite bits were the pipes and drums. Few things stir my blood like the skirl of the bagpipes, but traditional Irish music comes close.

And with that, I offer up a slice of one of my faves, The Chieftans. This is a scene I would enjoy tremendously -- sitting around the pub with friends, all with traditional acoustic instruments and half-enjoyed pints of Guinness on the table. Enjoy.