I love St. Patrick’s Day, even though I am not Irish. I love sitting in an Irish bar for an embarrassingly long session, having too many pints of Guinness, and watching the frivolity fall all around us. It’s also a holiday unadulterated by children. No offense to the precious ones, but enough is enough. They have monopolized Christmas, secularized Easter, and made my penchant for adult birthdays feel ridiculous.
I wrote a piece on the holiday last year that I still like, so I’m going to ask you to read it again. Since so many of my contemporaries now find their progeny joining them at the bar, it’s a good primer on how they should conduct themselves.
Guinness at the top of the World
My article about the Irish diaspora, which you should have just read but probably did not, discusses the explosion of Irish pubs that accompanied it. I have visited an Irish pub that previously held the World’s Highest Irish Pub title—at 11,152 feet. It seems that honor is now held by The Irish Pub, located 11,318 feet above sea level in Namche Bazar, Nepal—the Gateway to Everest. Read how the Irish carry Guinness up the mountain on donkeys.
https://www.irishcentral.com/culture/craic/the-irish-pub-guinness
Hating Boston on St. Patrick’s Day
I have had a long-standing imaginary feud with the City of Boston. This can be traced to the racism of the Larry Byrd-era Celtics, the way the smarmy Ben Affleck ruined my imaginary shot at dating an Alias-era Jennifer Garner, and the recoil we all have when we hear “Pahk the cah in Havahd Yahd.” The best thing about hating Boston is that Bostonians don’t care. People love the place. Maybe someday, I’ll go.
Some of the best books to read about Boston are written by Dennis Lehane, who is known for his books, which became the movies Gone, Baby, Gone, and the beautifully tragic Mystic River. Take in some history of the place and read this expert of The Given Day by Lehane, a book about Boston and the riots of 1918.
https://www.bookbrowse.com/excerpts/index.cfm/book_number/2193/the-given-day