Go Irish!

Top o' the marnin' to ya, lads and lassies.  Happy St. Patrick's day.  St. Patrick.  It's a bit odd really, that St. Paddy, the patron saint of Ireland, was actually a Welshman.  Odd, but not so weird, as we're all Irish in spirit, especially on March 17, and the Irish are such a welcoming lot.  

Don't you just love Wikipedia?  Wiki, as in wikiwiki, the Hawaiian word for hurry up, or fast.  Not to be confused with hele on, which means let's go. Wiki wiki wacky woo! I don't know what that means.  I just like saying it.

I've gotta dig up something green to wear to work tomorrow.  Even in Hawaii, everyone's Irish. Places actually serve corn beef, cabbage and green beer.  I actually am Irish.  Authentically and unapologetically.  Of course, I'm more Irish on St. Paddy's day.  I'm also Scottish, which is almost Irish.  Scotch Irish, or Scots Irish, which is really Scottish.  They were Scots who emigrated to America from Ireland.  Seriously.  I kid you not.  You can check it out for yourself on Wikipedia.  The Scots Irish were orangemen, protestants, from Ulster.  Ulstermen on  my dad's side; Irish Catholics on me ma's.  No wonder I'm so psycho.  Ever hear of The Troubles?  Imagine being descendent from both sides.  Good think the ancestors got on their respective boats and married folks descended from other nations once they got here.  Ultimately, my parents didn't get along much better than the squabblers in Ireland (although they fell short of bombings and sabotage).  Good thing I didn't have to ride the boat.  Glad I was born here.  (Not here, here, but here, in the USA.) I don't do boats.  

At the Maku'u Market in Lower Puna on Sundays, there's a group of pasty guys who wear kilts and big, punk boots. They play music, though I don't recall if they blow bagpipes.  Maybe I'll swing on down there this week to see if they're still a fixture.  

I can't wait for St. Olaf's Day.  I'm Norwegian, too.  Oofdah!  Yah, sure.  You yust learn to say yam and they tell you it's yelly.  You know, it's really hard to find good Lefse here.  And National Bratwurst Day.  There must be one of those, right?  I'm German, too.  I remember a sign I used to see along highway 285 in Colorado, just east of Pine, that read, "Italian Bratwurst."  I always thought that was hilarious.  Sort of like Norwegian tortillas.  Wait.  That's pretty much lefse.  I've probably mentioned that in the annals of this venerable digest before.  Still funny. 

I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said simply, "I am Hawaiian."

Good for you, I thought.  I'm Irish, German, Scottish, Norwegian and Native American, but I don't go around wearing a t-shirt claiming such.  Here, they do. "Proud to be, Portagee." "Filipino power."  Lot's of proud Hawaiians.  The Japanese don't do it.  Nor do the Chinese.  They have plenty of holidays and festivals of their own and are the majority, so maybe they just don't feel compelled to stand out any more than they already do.  Somehow, I don't think that mine proclamation would fit on either a shirt of a bumper sticker unless I used fine print or took up the entire bumper and either way, people would think I'm al kine lolo.  Of course, I could just say, "I'm Irish," and somehow, most everyone would appreciate that.  We do live in a weird world of multiple standards, don't we? OK.  I'm American.  How's that? Irish American. Cheers!

A hui hou.  Aloha!