WILKES-BARRE — St. Patrick’s Day always makes me think of my dad. I think of him every day, along with my mom.
St. Patrick’s Day is special to me. Today, I will have ham and cabbage dinner and maybe a glass of Guinness to celebrate my Irish heritage and wish my dad was here with me.
Not because we would misbehave or sing Irish songs or do anything too much.
We would simply enjoy our meal and beer and probably talk about the Yankees, or the Giants, or Knicks, or Notre Dame or Penn State or today’s front page.
Or we would watch “Wheel of Fortune.” Dad loved that show almost as much as the “The Golden Girls” or any western.
To me, being Irish has always meant more than just difficult social customs.
During these “celebrations,” you will see many people wearing green, with a few shamrocks, and they might say, “Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”
These Irish people, real or temporary, will set aside their worries, their concerns, their problems to come out to watch a parade and show their kids how a community can come together to celebrate the spirit of an Irish Saint, a jolly old elf, a candy-giving bunny or, in other towns, to celebrate the tomato, pierogi or kielbasa.
My favorite Irish quote: “It’s my rule to never lose my temper until it would be harmful to keep it.”
That reminds me of my father, who would be pushed to the absolute furthest end before yelling at me. And believe me, I did push.
I am proud to have an O’ as part of my last name, although too many people fail to recognize it and just call me Boyle. Many of these same people also assume my first name is Bob, but that’s another story. I also value my mom’s maiden name — Kraszewski — Polish of course, which means I will wear red on Tuesday for St. Joseph’s Day.
So, as you might expect, I went back in time to a few years after the 1972 Agnes flood. I was working at the Redevelopment Authority of Luzerne County and there were two genuine Irishmen I got to know extremely well — George Horn and Paul Gallagher, both now deceased, and as Irish as Irish could be and they let you know it, but never in an offensive way.
I even wrote a poem for them called “An Irish Quart.” They really liked it. George even sent it over to the Emerald Isle to friends and relatives and I’m told it was published in several Irish publications.
And Friday night I was lucky enough to attend the Greater Wilkes-Barre Friendly Sons dinner. Got to meet and talk to Ken Griffey Sr., who was a really good baseball player for the Cincinnati Reds Big Red Machine and later for my Yankees.
Now I’m pretty sure most of the St. Patrick’s celebrations are over, but since today is the actual day, a few more drinks may be consumed.
Always, aim for moderation. This will ensure your safety and the safety of those around you, especially on the highways. And you will come back next year for yet another celebration.
So I will rewrite that little song I composed many years ago — “An Irish Quart.”
“An Irish boy asked a question
To his Irish father
What day is today, he wondered loudly
It is the day of beloved old St. Paddy.
•
The boy then inquired
Who is this man St. Paddy?
Why, son, he is the hero
Of every Irish boy and girl.
•
More questions came from the boy
When his father abruptly stopped him.
Let me narrate a little story
Of me and my Irish Quart.
•
When I was your age, I too asked
These same questions of my father
That is when my Irish father said,
It is time to meet St. Paddy.
•
From a cupboard assumed to be empty
Came a bottle that smelled like paint.
Tonight we drink an Irish Quart
And we meet that Irish Saint!
•
There we were, my father and I,
Until the light of the early morning.
And that night I became an adult,
For within me the Irish was born.
•
I recalled seeing leprechauns
All green and a little chubby.
And to this day, I still do affirm,
I spoke to old St. Paddy.
•
“Now I hope all your questions are resolved,
And I hope they weren’t too brief.
But just to be sure, let’s you and I,
Go drink an Irish Quart.”
•
A purely made-up story that came out of my mind when I was trying to explain to a couple of genuine Irish friends the bond that forms between Irish fathers and sons.
And before you get upset, there is no certainty that alcohol was involved in the story.
There is a spirit that lives and breathes in those with Emerald Isle roots.
Celebrations are for just that — having fun and paying tribute to someone or something.
For me, St. Patrick’s Day gives me time to pause and recollect those childhood days — not just St. Patrick’s Days — but every day that we celebrated something in our small town.
There were always stories — enjoyable stories, good food, priceless memories.
So celebrate today and be responsible, please.
Create only good memories.
