I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but March 17th is upon us which means that once again St. Patrick’s Day has arrived and you have probably completely forgotten to do your shopping. Well, it’s too late now! The new St. Patrick’s Day toys have been swept off the shelves, the St. Patrick’s day cookies are delivered, the St. Patrick’s Day baked leprechaun parts have all been bought for the big dinner….
Truth be told, of course, (but truth is so stubborn it just will not be told) St. Patrick’s Day is probaby the most uneventful holiday since Arbor Day–and at least on Arbor Day some people go out and plant a tree. Probably. Somewhere. For St. Patrick’s Day the only major requirement is to wear some sort of green clothing. Of course, people all over the world wear green clothing every day, but on this day you really mean it. Not only that, but it’s a great chance to ostracize the people who pay no attention to holidays like this and forget to wear green. These people can then spend all day feeling self-conscious about the fact that they didn’t wear green when they often do not wear green and nobody seems to notice. Ah, that’s a celebration–and possibly the cause of several post office shootings.
Strangely, though, in the Catholic calendar this is one of the bigger saint-themed holidays. Of course, we Catholics are loaded down with holidays celebrating saints–St. Patrick, St. Valentine, St. Francis, St. Paul, St. Buck, Val Kilmer (think about it). And just in case you manage to miss any one of these various feast days, you can always make up for it with the catch-all, All Saints Day. Interestingly, St. Patrick was simply an Irishman who was a bishop in Ireland and spent thirty years converting pagans to Christianity. Which is all well and good, but one can’t help but notice that as a bishop that was, sorta, you know, his job. I would think that if he had spent all his time playing golf, the church might have had some issues with that. Considering this fact, it’s no wonder there were so many saints. I expect in three hundred years they’ll be celebrating St. Wanda who spent thirty years scraping congealed fat off the McDonalds french fryer–hardly saint-worthy, but hey, she was doing her job. Now, if Wanda had spent thirty years scraping congealed fat off of Pierre, the French friar, that might mean something in the religious world. (Ba dum, ching! Thank you! Try the veal!) Anwyay, it seems that St. Patty did his job and when he died on March 17, 461 the day was forever commemorated in his honor–and it was first celebrated in America in Boston in 1737. Probably–I just did all that from memory, so I could be wrong and already I am sure all of you nerdy people are consulting your precious books to see if I’m right. Well let me save you the trouble–probably not.
Nevertheless, despite it’s somewhat lame origins, St. Patrick’s Day is the Mardi Gras of Catholic holidays because it encourages all followers to go to bars and get totally ripped–something that is normally only done by Catholic priests (Zing!). Most other Saint-themed days are not even close to being this active primarily because most Saints did not die peacefully as did Patrick but instead were beheaded after being tortured and forced to watch reruns of “The Hogan Family.”
For the portion of the world who is not Catholic, or as Catholics affectionately refer to them, “The Damned,” St. Patrick’s Day is a celebration of all things Irish. Once again, however, reality seems to bely that notion. Consider the traditions–drinking large quantities of beer, wearing tacky, radioactive green clothing, and watching lerpechauns capering around comically. What more American things are there then drinking, ugly clothes, and being entertained by midgets? Ask any wrestling fan and they will tell you that this is like any other weekend.
So, this March 17th, take a few moments to rest your head on the cool, soothing bathroom floor (careful not to drown in your own vomit, now!) and give thanks for all the great things St. Patrick did for us. But just say it to yourself–there’s a good chance that that green-clad, dancing midget is not really there.
PS: Please note that at no time in this essay did I resort to cliched Irish stereotypes. But I did really stick it to the Catholics, though! Ha ha! That’s John 1, Pope 0. Bring it on, John Paul.