middle brow missions

saint how?

i mean, st. patrick's day. that's the... *the*... *THE* chicago event this weekend. we don't care what you and your hyp-set friends say about it. we grew up on the south side. in the south suburbs. and we have tons of happy irish memories. of killer irish sweaters. or corned beef and mustard and dry rye bread. of gross soggy-soft carrots and potatoes that've been cooked for 14 hours. and fiddles. we love a good brogue. but we hate the knee-jerk hatred of st patrick's day in our beloved neighborhood of logan square. ... it's that knee-jerk hatred that reinforces the terrible perception of american-irish people as drunks *just as much* as the idiot 15-25yo american-irish drunks do. 

irish culture is fun! below average food! monotonous music! fucking unmatched storytelling! read pillowman by martin mcdonagh and you'll hear me. he's the same cat who wrote three billboards. which was admittedly average. but the fucking irish! terrific storytelling drunks they are!

it all reminds me of the american flag. i used to sorta hate it. and all that new-country music that ain't got any soul or honesty in it. and the blind faith in country they both represent. but my beautiful, brilliant, boss and first and current wife, polly, told me about how we had to take that flag and make it ours. make it represent fairness and equality of opportunity. and *our* kind of freedom. the freedom to feel safe in school. the freedom to get sick once or twice a year. the freedom to breathe clean air and drink clean water and have and care for a new baby. *not* the freedom to own a gun without restriction. or the freedom to make a billion dollars no matter who gets hurt. those are certain kinds of freedoms. but weird ones to take tons of pride in.

anyway. we'll be making a marble rye for st patrick's day. we'll only have a few available for sale sunday morning. come get it before your house party starts. get as drunk as you want. just don't get hurt or sick. and please don't pretend it's an irish tradition to be a fuckface. the food. the music. the storytelling. that's the irish part. the drinking: that's just the idiot college boy or girl in you. the thing that you're perfectly justified in being ashamed of. ha!