TGIF I think
Mar. 17th, 2006 07:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
altivoToday I deliberately wore both orange and green, as I often do for this silly "Let's have a holiday where everyone drinks until they turn green and pass out" holiday. It wasn't far into the day before I was in a mood that boded ill for any leprechaun who might dare to pinch me. I wouldn't have bothered with a fly swatter, I'd have just stomped them.
You know it isn't really true that Patrick chased the snakes out of Ireland. They left of their own accord because they were tired of people getting drunk and throwing up on them every March 17.
The first full year that I lived in Chicago was 1978. I worked on the downtown campus of DePaul University, and lived in Uptown. Transportation to and from work was the el/subway between Wilson Ave. and Jackson Blvd. (today's Red line.) On March 17 of that year, there was a major fire in a warehouse adjacent to the elevated tracks (I think it was at Wrightwood) and consequently the CTA was asked by the fire department to turn off the power on that segment because of the hose spray and risks. The result was no northbound trains on the State St. subway at rush hour, and the St. Patrick's parade had taken place that day, so many drunken celebrants were mingled with the crowds of confused commuters thronging subway platforms and crowding State Street waiting for buses or some way to get home. I remember being horrified at the sheer crush of people, the number of aggressive and rowdy drunks, and the number of apparent "natives" who only knew one public transit route to use and couldn't shift gears to take a bus instead of the disabled trains. It must have been a Friday, because I remember taking the el back south from Wilson after taking care of my dog. I had tickets for the symphony and wasn't about to miss that, fire or no. The trains were running by then, but single tracking past the fire, which had in fact damaged part of the el tracks I think. It was a big mess. The fire was still burning and you could feel the heat as the train went by. The bus ride home was claustrophobic and overloaded in the extreme.
Returning north at 10:30 pm, the temperature had fallen well below freezing. The fire was out, and the entire block was encased in glittering ice. The fire department was still there with huge floodlights that emphasized the sparkling ice. I don't remember the CSO performance, but they are always good and Sir Georg Solti was still musical director and conducting then. I do remember wondering what I had gotten into by moving to Chicago, and whether I should get out sooner rather than later. I've avoided St. Patrick's Day festivities in Chicago ever since.
Unfortunately, no one else at work seems to have the negative feelings I do about the celebration. They happily wore green sequined bow ties and fluttered about all day preparing for a performance of Irish folk music being hosted by the library this evening. I was trying to cover my own work, plus part of the load of a vacationing staff member, plus clean up (yet again) after the ineptitude of the technical consultants the library pays to manage the network. Even so, I felt I was being grumpier than usual. I was very glad that my mate's obligations to the local beekeeper's group meant I could not stay for the performance, and I left at my usual time. By the time I got home, I felt like I was coming down with something, sneezing like crazy and getting a headache. Green flu? I dunno. St. Paddy's celebration just seems to be a holiday that doesn't suit me.
You know it isn't really true that Patrick chased the snakes out of Ireland. They left of their own accord because they were tired of people getting drunk and throwing up on them every March 17.
The first full year that I lived in Chicago was 1978. I worked on the downtown campus of DePaul University, and lived in Uptown. Transportation to and from work was the el/subway between Wilson Ave. and Jackson Blvd. (today's Red line.) On March 17 of that year, there was a major fire in a warehouse adjacent to the elevated tracks (I think it was at Wrightwood) and consequently the CTA was asked by the fire department to turn off the power on that segment because of the hose spray and risks. The result was no northbound trains on the State St. subway at rush hour, and the St. Patrick's parade had taken place that day, so many drunken celebrants were mingled with the crowds of confused commuters thronging subway platforms and crowding State Street waiting for buses or some way to get home. I remember being horrified at the sheer crush of people, the number of aggressive and rowdy drunks, and the number of apparent "natives" who only knew one public transit route to use and couldn't shift gears to take a bus instead of the disabled trains. It must have been a Friday, because I remember taking the el back south from Wilson after taking care of my dog. I had tickets for the symphony and wasn't about to miss that, fire or no. The trains were running by then, but single tracking past the fire, which had in fact damaged part of the el tracks I think. It was a big mess. The fire was still burning and you could feel the heat as the train went by. The bus ride home was claustrophobic and overloaded in the extreme.
Returning north at 10:30 pm, the temperature had fallen well below freezing. The fire was out, and the entire block was encased in glittering ice. The fire department was still there with huge floodlights that emphasized the sparkling ice. I don't remember the CSO performance, but they are always good and Sir Georg Solti was still musical director and conducting then. I do remember wondering what I had gotten into by moving to Chicago, and whether I should get out sooner rather than later. I've avoided St. Patrick's Day festivities in Chicago ever since.
Unfortunately, no one else at work seems to have the negative feelings I do about the celebration. They happily wore green sequined bow ties and fluttered about all day preparing for a performance of Irish folk music being hosted by the library this evening. I was trying to cover my own work, plus part of the load of a vacationing staff member, plus clean up (yet again) after the ineptitude of the technical consultants the library pays to manage the network. Even so, I felt I was being grumpier than usual. I was very glad that my mate's obligations to the local beekeeper's group meant I could not stay for the performance, and I left at my usual time. By the time I got home, I felt like I was coming down with something, sneezing like crazy and getting a headache. Green flu? I dunno. St. Paddy's celebration just seems to be a holiday that doesn't suit me.
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no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 06:11 pm (UTC)I think most of the people needs a excuse to let loose and to celebrate and when they do, they often try to hard. I prefer enjoying life and having fun everyday so when I go to parties or celebrations I don't have to over-react.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 03:39 am (UTC)I love that user picture. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 04:20 am (UTC)It is part of a commission from Taurinfox. You can go look at it here: http://kildoo-lonewolf.livejournal.com/32669.html?nc=2
BTW I gave him permission to sell prints of it if he wanted, so just ask him if you want one ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 07:19 pm (UTC)day. Any day is good for a drink. Okay, I indulge more than I should
but I tend to be realistic about it. Drinking myself into a stupor
for a Saint seems...odd.
You said Solti and understood who he was.
Points for hoss. ^.~
I liked this post, your command of language is five star. ^.^
no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 03:34 am (UTC)And the hilarious part of it is just what that looked like. For those of us who have lived on farms, there was only one analog: the manure pile. I do think it was intentional, aimed at anyone who might get the joke.
There were also several Greek-owned bars and restaurants. All featured sweet counters that displayed glass-encased delicacies such as baklava. For St. Patrick's they would bring out these weird cakes shaped like frogs, with huge bulging eyes and coated with brilliant green icing. All the Greek places would have trays full of them. I never ate one, and don't want to speculate on what they were.
I don't hate Ireland or the Irish. I enjoy genuine Irish music and literature. St. Patrick's Day, though, is an abomination created in the US and it just irritates the heck out of me. They dump fluorescene into the Chicago River to dye it green for the occasion, but the color really looks more like piss to me than anything else. Probably piss from green beer.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 11:31 am (UTC)I can speculate. ;-)
No green beer here, and no vomitting. And no dealing with public transit. I just went with a friend to a local bar within walking distance, had some fish and chips and nachos (and yes some beer, Canadian beer, and not green :-), and listened to a band with a unique Gypsy+Jewish+Rock blend that was quite unexpected, very interesting, and nothing short of awesome. It wasn't an Irish pub, and actually the band sang only one "Irish" song, which they made up on the spot and it was just making fun of Irish songs. ;-) It's a bar we'd been to on some previous St. Patrick's Days where we knew we wouldn't get people in our face who are really into "celebrating" (stuff like that happening just takes the fun out of it for me). I think the key to enjoying St. Patrick's Day while avoiding the pitfalls is low key.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 12:19 pm (UTC)I had no idea that frog shaped cakes or cakes with frogs on top were some kind of wedding fad, but it appears to be the case. Google can be soooooo distracting...
no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 09:27 pm (UTC)No, I have no humour about this. None. At. All.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 03:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 09:08 am (UTC)Come ride with me and on me and let me take you away, Rider.
Imp who always offers wings and horseflesh warm and loving to you.