I love a parade

The problem with typical Irish-American culture are all the nasty stereotypes that go along with it, the biggest of which includes the open and sometimes vast consumption of alcohol. It allows people 
not affiliated with our culture a cloud cover to hide behind, and that's getting wildly drunk and/or obnoxious in public without censure, but that's only part of it for us. 

The "pub" is an institution: part community center ("pub", as in a public house that's serves the community), part stage for the art of storytelling that's enhanced with a pint or two, part musician's venue, part restaurant, part psychiatrist's office, part meeting room, part boarding house, part illicit den...in short, it's woven into our culture in many, many different ways, and there's alcohol served as well. 

But, outsiders don't always get those parts, so we tend to stay away from rank amateur hours like the big city parade (that's for tourists!), as we steer our kiddies towards safer havens, like a small town parade. Ours is a bit repetitive and boring, and it sure brings out the loud, nasty drunk who's brazen enough to do it in public for the whole town to see, around children, and under a noonday sun, but that's part of who we are, too. I don't turn away from the bad stuff, and neither should you. We're adults. We can handle it.

Party skills are essential, especially when open container laws are in effect.

Someone's getting the parade "feel"! That's me in the hat and sunglasses.

My café table and aggressor: kids bumped into it and it fell onto my foot.

Tutus from the toy store proprietress in town are always a favorite.

"Hey, I want some popcorn, too!" said the St. Bernard to his new friend.

The Polar Bear Princess wore a tiara over her hat!

Honoring our vets, one pin at a time.

Lots of other geegaws on sale, too.

Nice coat! I love the "Dogs on Parade" part the best.

Our parade always begins with New York's Finest at the lead.

It's not all good looks and glamour: sometimes ya gotta shovel it.

Pomp and circumstance, with music and color. Alright!

Hey, man! Whassup?! Is he walking on stilts?

You know you're good when you can play without hands.

These horses are huge! The sorrel-colored horse is spectacular.

Cute, but the bands' awful. Oh well. Pearl River Pirates are great wrestlers!

North Rockland had the best school band, I thought. Great outfits, too.

No way?! "G.I. Joe with the Kung-Fu Grip" is here! Awesome!

Representing Boston. They took  the "Most Snowfall" category this year.

Big crowd this year, and getting bigger every year.

Soccer kids! They were fun and energetic, also starting a tradition young.

Kids love the parade. They wear costumes and special Irish outfits!

Lots of flash and razzle-dazzle. It's a show, after all!

Adults watching in the shadows, taking it all in.

The party ends with a big dump truck for all the garbage. Reality sets in.

A Gladiator, or two, or three hundred or more, thrown into the mix.

Real heroes with red fire trucks are always welcome at the house on the hill.

Go Green!

The Boogie Down Bronx sports the green.

Hey New York! It's parade weekend, so if you're drinking a pint or two (and you know you will), stay safe and take mass transit. That's what's it's for, you sot ;)

For those of you visiting from out of town, take a tip from a classic Seinfeld episode about the Puerto Rican Day Parade: just stay away.

Stay safe, and have a great time. Happy St. Pat's—Marie

March Blows In

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot 
and the wind blows cold: when it is summer 
in the light, and winter in the shade. 

—Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Good morning, dear readers! March is a very exciting time in New York. The weather turns from winter to spring and back again in the span of a day, and this town gets ready for the biggest parade of the year, the St. Patrick's Day Parade.

Most importantly, I get to break out my Irish gear and post pictures of me sporting it, because as most of you readers know, I am descended from the Corbetts' of Galway through my maternal grandfather. Incidentally, he bought me the Greek fisherman's cap you see me wearing in my new authors' photo to the right because I loved his so much, bought when my grandparents travelled the globe after his retirement from ConEdison.

Those of us who are also lucky enough to be Acadian come from a beautiful island called “New Scotland”, or now commonly known as Nova Scotia. We are a wonderfully eclectic blend of the French, Native American, and Celtic, and this month's wild weather ride, with its' rough storms and pelting rains, only drives the point home further for island people of the Northern Hemisphere.

Change is coming. Are you ready? 

Sláinte

Sláinte (SLAHN-chə) is a word literally translating as "health"^[1] and is commonly used as a drinking toast in Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man.

Brooklyn St. Patrick's Day Parade

Because we live in a city as old as New York, our towns and villages pre-date strip malls, bedroom communities, and suburbs. We have a network of distinct and unique neighborhoods within each borough, built before the advent of easy travel. Horse-driven buggies rode over cobble-stoned streets, and the first underground railway system had velvet-roped seats. I know this, because my grandfather described the old train cabs to me in vivid detail. 

He also told me childhood memories about Old Breuckelen. When he was little, there were still some farms with chicken, sheep, and horses that roamed around the more rural areas. He had the Gaelic gift of gab and a naturally charming manner, with a silver tongue made for storytelling. I thought of him yesterday. He, a Brooklyn-born boy from the turn-of-the-century, would have loved our small town parade as much as I did.

http://brooklynstpatricksparade.com/