Pretty much everyone I pinched for violating the “wearing of the green,” requirement revealed that they were actually sporting verdant hues somewhere, even if only on their socks, underwear, or at the very least, in glitter on their eyebrows and foreheads, courtesy of one or more happy leprechauns sprinkling it around.
Which just goes to show that appearances can be deceiving and leave the best parts unseen at first, an apt metaphor, I think, for many a Thursday night ride, especially the first of the year to feature a meetup before dark—which may have been part of the reason, in addition to the Hibernian holiday—for such a good turnout on an evening that still, technically, qualified as being in winter.
St. Patrick’s Day, like New Year’s Eve and Cinquo de Mayo, is, to most seasoned tipplers, a kind of amateur night, so it was nice to see so many professionals in the art of boozing out on two wheels.
The music bike blasted an appropriately-themed repertoire of jigs and reels and I realized, after a time, that Irish music eventually sounds surprisingly like Country, which I suppose make sense, given how many of those who fled the Potato Famine back in the 1800s ended up in the American Heartland planting tubers, drinking whiskey, and doing a two-step to fiddle and pipe around the fire.
Folks celebrating the holiday at various watering holes around town applauded as we rolled loudly past; I can’t say for sure whether any pink hearts, orange stars, yellow moons, or green clovers trailed in our wake, but I am confident that wherever we went was magically delicious, especially for those of us engaged in not only the wearing of, but in the smoking of the green, as well.
In How the Irish Saved Civilization, historian Thomas Cahill argues that Ireland played a critical role in preserving Western civilization; cool; I like how it helps with our inevitable decline, as well.
Which just goes to show that appearances can be deceiving and leave the best parts unseen at first, an apt metaphor, I think, for many a Thursday night ride, especially the first of the year to feature a meetup before dark—which may have been part of the reason, in addition to the Hibernian holiday—for such a good turnout on an evening that still, technically, qualified as being in winter.
St. Patrick’s Day, like New Year’s Eve and Cinquo de Mayo, is, to most seasoned tipplers, a kind of amateur night, so it was nice to see so many professionals in the art of boozing out on two wheels.
The music bike blasted an appropriately-themed repertoire of jigs and reels and I realized, after a time, that Irish music eventually sounds surprisingly like Country, which I suppose make sense, given how many of those who fled the Potato Famine back in the 1800s ended up in the American Heartland planting tubers, drinking whiskey, and doing a two-step to fiddle and pipe around the fire.
Folks celebrating the holiday at various watering holes around town applauded as we rolled loudly past; I can’t say for sure whether any pink hearts, orange stars, yellow moons, or green clovers trailed in our wake, but I am confident that wherever we went was magically delicious, especially for those of us engaged in not only the wearing of, but in the smoking of the green, as well.
In How the Irish Saved Civilization, historian Thomas Cahill argues that Ireland played a critical role in preserving Western civilization; cool; I like how it helps with our inevitable decline, as well.
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