Friday, March 15, 2013

IT WAS ST PATICK'S DAY

Some years ago, I was blessed or sentenced - from day to day it was difficult to tell - to live in New Orleans for about two years. We lived in Uptown where there were fewer drive-by shootings rapes and robberies than in the Downtown areas. I guess it could be said, that was the blessing part.

There was another perk that you had to live there to enjoy: there was always some kind of celebration going on. New Orleanians could organize a parade complete with floats and a jazz band for any reason at all. There didn't seem to be a lack of reasons.

I once race-walked in a 10K that began in the French Quarter and ended on the riverside end of Audubon Park. At each major, and some minor crossings, there was a band playing lively jazz. It had a positive effect.

On St. Patrick's Day we decided to visit one of our favorite cafés, Joey K's, on Magazine for breakfast. As a testament to how distracted one can be in a city of constant attractions, we did not know it was St. Patrick's Day. Magazine St. was blocked off for parking, to make way for a parade, so we had to find a place on a side street.

Clay, the owner of the café waited on us and confirmed that there was to be a parade with floats with dozens of Irishmen in tuxedos and tailcoats, green cummerbunds and white sneakers, marching and riding on floats. Over the weekend there will be four parades, he said.

Today's parade will pass in front of the restaurant. Soon, he said, we will have a full house of those tuxedo clad gentlemen drinking milk laced with Irish whiskey with their breakfast. He allowed that some of the gents seemed not to have a tolerance for the milk. For the sake of disambiguation, It was a bit before 8: AM.

It was further explained that these men would throw potatoes and cabbages to the crowds lining the parade route. And yes, there have been injuries.

It will be a quiet day here in Pownal for St. Patrick's Day. No green beer. No Irish whiskey. No boisterous parade. No formal dress. Out of deference to the day, however, I will cook a cabbage with a few Irish potatoes thrown in, demonstrating, I hope beyond a doubt, my spiritual side.

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