Wouldn’t you know, all I could find on You Tube was drunks, brawls, and out of tune singing - or, more likely, brawling drunks singing off key. They also had thirty-second videos of long lines of policeman in the parades.
In other words, the only thing on offer was reality (at least reality after about 1:00 p.m.), so I gave up on Southie. She survives to remind us that God gave the Irish whiskey to keep them from taking over the world. ‘Tis a crying shame he didn’t give it to the Arabs…or that He didn’t teach the Irish what He did the Jews: eat first, then drink.
Instead of a parade, here is Enya. This is my favorite song from her first album. She captured so exquisitely childhood’s great fear and sorrow..
And, for all our readers, my mother's favorite blessing:
May all your roads be downhill,
May the sun be always at your back,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand,
And may you be in Heaven three days before the devil knows you're dead.
[post ends here]
6 comments:
Technically, today is "Evacuation Day" in Boston, the day the British left during the Revolutionary War. And, yes, it is a legal holiday inside city limits.
yes, I know that. However, Evacuatuion Day doesn't have the same ring somehow.
So George pushed out the Red Coats. Little did he know that a century later we barbarians would come behind him...
People in Southie say "Happy Evacuation Day" also...but with a smirk.
Oh, and Happy St. Patrick's Day to you, too, Condor.
This Enya song would be a beautiful and poignant addition to a mother's funeral, as her children even if adult in age will have to continue their journey without her with all the emotion that last goodbye brings.
laine--
I often wonder if she wrote that song for families who sent their children out of Northern Ireland to safety.
It reminds me of the stories I've read of the English children sent to countryside in WWII.
I like your idea, very much.
There was actually civilized celebrating up here in the frozen north. We played two sessions and the craic was good. Little children danced until they were tired. Old people tapped their toes and smiled. No green beer, no fighting drunks. And, since we didn't play in a pub, no Guinness, alas.
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