Growing up in a dominant Italian household, with pasta served every god damned night, I never bonded with my Irish side. My Father had died when I was 4, so I never got to know him or his side of the family. It was only when I got older did I begin to embrace my Irish side — especially on St. Paddy’s Day — a day designated for everyone to embrace the Irish culture. It might bemuse you to learn that I regale myself in all of the traditional accouterments — a full blown leprechaun trotting around in green garb, with dastardly designs at becoming as drunk as humanly possible.
Over the years, I’ve had many memorable St. Paddy’s days, none of which included the fag parade. Typically, upon waking up, I toss the corned beef in a pot brimming with water, beer, and mustard seeds. After several hours of boiling the bastard, I always open up another beer (maybe 2) and pour it into the pot. Spending my time wisely, I drink a half dozen beers in record time — write a bunch of shit on the internet, trade a few stocks, then I peel a bunch of potatoes and dice up some cabbage.
Making sure the beef is progressing according to schedule, I open the pot and poke at it — as if I know what the hell I’m doing. Then I simply drop all of the potatoes and cabbage into the pot, cover it, and then forget it ever existed for the next two hours or so.
Dinner is well on its way.
My house is usually filled with guests, all wanting to eat boiled food and drink lots of strong beer, so we make more than one pot of corned beef. Sometimes I crock pot one — or as my good friend likes to say, when pretending to be a world class chef, ‘slow cook’ it.
Soon enough, the company begins to pile in — most clad in green garments or off-white cable knit sweaters — looking like old seamen just back from a month at sea. “How was the catch?”, I ask them. “Pretty good lad — now get me a fargin’ beer, would ya?”
“Aye.”
We’re playing the songs from the old country, naturally. Here are a few crowd pleasers.
After we’ve been properly inebriated, the fatty meat, potatoes, and cabbage are served, liberally. People usually bring their own corned beef — so there’s plenty to go around. The music is blasting and the beers are being consumed at an industrial rate. Not before long, whiskey and single barrelled scotch are being passed around like bubble gum in a little league baseball dugout. The men venture outside to smoke a pipe or cigar, any sort of tobacco, and the rest of the night becomes a slow motion blur — intermingled between laughter, comical moments, and juvenile foolishness.
Alas, by the end of the night, we’re all Irish — outraged, mind you, by the treatment of ‘our people’ by those fucking Brits.
We wait one year hence and then do it all over again.
Happy St. Paddy’s Day.
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I know that you have mentioned your father here at least one time before – bless his heart. Thank you for such wonderful content over the years Fly.
Flys going dark again
Summary of today’s posts
1. 9:51 Fuck Fed
2. 11:10 Ronald Mcdonald Eats Trump’s Lunch
3. 3:48 God? Housing Should Re-Die
4. 7:01 Retail Overdoses
Welcome back to the dark side
https://youtu.be/-LMwRU0qqHY
Happy Paddy day to you and your loved ones Mr Fly. From a south side mick in Chicago I say fuck yea mates we’re all Irish this day. Let’s have a Guinness and kick some ass !
They’d look at you sideways in Ireland if you asked for corned beef and cabbage, a truly Irish-American dish. My old man loved it. Guinness is good for you. Tullamore Dew is nice for sipping and Bailey’s with dessert. Now I’m hungry.
Sláinte!
https://youtu.be/N4ekRII8QwM
Corned beef, cabbage, and Guinness. AKA, the Irish gastrointestinal car bomb.
Oh, and you can also make a kickass pulled pork in a crock pot.
I’m half Irish, your day sounds a lot like mine except I do it without the guests. which I prefer.
No Black 47 on the turntable?
Nothing like an Irish bar in Midtown NYC filled with drunk fireman and red-haired ladies to commemorate St. Patrick’s Day. All the local building supers would be washing puke off the streets before sunrise. Ah.. the good ole days.
such a talented writer, you are, Fly …
Happy St Paddy’s to our Irish friends
Oh how I do enjoy the musings of The Fly on this fine day. The only thing better would be to read a parallel blog from Mrs. Fly describing the debauchery from her vantage point.
This will get you going. Crank up the volume. https://youtu.be/bJzWPBA7Jmo
I am Italirish too my brother.
Happy st paddy’s day you crazy lunatic.
Epic! Happy St. Paddy McFly!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tHDX9qb2-BQ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcA3MmV6Ymk would you believe that’s me cousin Ciaran Burke (RIP) drinking the beer.