Finally, a holiday celebrating corned beef and cabbage, green beer, leprechauns and herpetophobia (fear of snakes). While most of us have waited all year in anticipation of this special day, I face it with a certain dread. It was on St. Patrick’s day of 1989 that I was fired from my job as a bank teller in Florida.

It seems that this particular bank frowned on starting the day with an Irish Coffee, then giving away $14,000 too much to one of its customers. Where’s their holiday spirit? I mean, they recovered the money. No harm, no foul, right?

For three years afterward I refused to wear green and turned down every invitation to go see Lord of the Dance. The fact that the show didn’t come out until 1996 was of little consequence. More importantly, I swore off Irish whiskey and Baileys. There may or may not have been an intervention involved in the latter, but it still totally counts.

I finally made my peace with the Irish, and decided to once again celebrate their lame holiday. I’ve got my Weight Watchers recipe for corned beef and cabbage, and I’ll serve it with green apple juice (see “intervention” above). I’d dress my garden gnomes as leprechauns if I didn’t know that the homeowner’s association would be all over me like white on rice. Damn gnome Nazis!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day y’all!

Erin go Braugh!

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, the rains fall softly on your fields and, until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.