March 16, 2013... 2:11pm
Eleven minutes shy of ten hours 'til it's officially St. Patrick's day central time. The weather is shaping up to be exactly what we here in shit central the beautiful heartland expect every March 17th.
Forget that Thursday and Friday (yesterday) were stellar award winning Weather Channel editor's picks---70 farenheit, blue skies and soft balmy breezes tickling ankles, attempting to rise up legs to poof boxers and delight tender nethers. Cut that temperature in half and toss in full druid-dark cloud cover, and you have today. Add in a northeast wind of 15 to 35 mph and some bitterly driven precipitation that varies from sleet to barely warm enough to be full liquid, face biting rain, and you have tomorrow, Saint Patty's. I've checked the forecast to verify, but really, I could have saved the effort. It's the same every single year.
I used to suffer the parade downtown. The parking and walking, the freezing and balking, the alcohol and inevitable drunken squawking at cops and yes, mocking . . them.
"Where's yer green ya bloody copper? That's right, fuck me, I'm Irish! Arghh!! What? That's right you blue wearing too sober protestant, I'm an Irish pirate!"
Poor cops, what an awful assignment. I do hope they got and get double time pay. Even that isn't enough. I've seen full riots, the kind where people can be trampled to a smear and forgotten, later to be on missing persons lists---casualties of St. Pat's.
"You seen Ramone?"
"He was heading to the parade last I heard."
"I told the boy not to go.down.there.. OH MY GOD!"
"Aye... tears then. Condolences."
I no longer have the heart, or soul, or more precisely... the full measure of foolishness, that it takes to endure all of that. The risk is just too high and the weather too shitty.
I do have some Irish that I come by honestly, so I've been told. Must be so 'cause I've been hankerin' fer some corned beef and cabbage with potatoes. I asked li'l Ms. Jenny me lass to grab a corned beef at the price chopper yesterday when the sun still shone. She texted me.. "THEY ARE FIFTY DOLLARS! 10 pounders at $4.99 and there's only two and they look like hammered donkey ass!"
Yeah well, still sucks less than Christmas. Gold pots at ends of rainbows and tornado season ahead. Aye!