Carolyn’s Online Magazine (COMe)
OF COURSE I’M IRISH. AREN’T YOU?
One of the creeks leading to my bloodstream is my Irish heritage. One might say, it being 7 generations back, that it is quite diluted. Even so, the Patrick Googins name counts.
A sea of green blanketed the Pittsburgh streets during the 145th St. Patrick’s Day parade (2015) and raindrops increased the depth of coffee, pop, or brew in beverage containers. In spite of the steady rain that soaked the Downtown area the festive spirit of the Irish wasn’t broken. Some recall the 1993 parade that proceeded despite marching in a blizzard.
One memorable occurrence? A man along the parade route suffered a horse bite on his finger.
No, I didn’t attend the parade—I don’t drive into Pittsburgh from my comfortable home an hour east of the city. And the dinner party I’d planned attending at a local restaurant was cancelled because us old folks were just too tired after a day of meetings and work.
However, I’ve been wearing my greenery—a St. Patrick’s shirt that says Lucky Charms (vintage 2006, a long-ago freebie from the cereal maker), a green jacket, green and gold necklace chains, and a green hat.
During one event, attended mostly by working professionals, a woman was impressed at my Irish presentation and urged her husband to take a picture of me on my camera. Funny, he tried about four snaps and none worked. So I took the camera, took a shot of him, and it worked. He took the camera back and tried again to snap my photo. No go.
I took the camera again and raised it to see if it just didn’t like me. I shot a selfie—with a long lens on a camera it’s difficult to do this kind of a shot, but it took.
We both shrugged our shoulders and parted ways, and, because the camera rejected me while the man tried to use it, I thought about the Irish life philosophy.
An Irishman’s Life Philosophy
In life, there are only two things to worry about:
either you are well, or you are sick.
If you are well, there is nothing to worry about:
but if you are sick, you have two things to worry about:
either you will live, or you will die.
If you live, there is nothing to worry about:
but if you die, you have two things to worry about:
either you will go to heaven or to hell.
If you go to heaven, there is nothing to worry about:
but if you go to hell,
you’ll be so busy shaking hands with your friends,
you won’t have time to worry!
I stopped at a store en route home and saw pots of shamrocks for sale but spotted nary one four leaf clover among them.
- Statistically, for every four-leaf clover in a clover patch there are approximately 10,000 three-leaf clovers… any clover patch that is large enough for you to lay in with your arms and legs outstretched should be large enough, statistically speaking, to have at least one four-leaf clover… a clover (can) conspires with his friend to play a cruel joke on you by arranging their leaves together to give the impression of a four leaf clover…
In spite of their being so rare, while we were waiting for the plane accident to occur at the Air Disaster Drill at Arnold Palmer Regional Airport 2014. A “crash victim” next to us, Robert, said he might as well look for a four leaf clover.
- “Are you Irish?” I asked.
- Amazingly, he immediately found a four leaf clover.
Like the clover best friends are difficult to find. We meet on average in an 80,000 people in a predicted life span of 78.3 years. It is rare to find a best friend even in this number. So I leave you with one more St. Patrick’s Day thought:
- A best friend is like a four-leaf clover: hard to find and lucky to have.
Especially an Irish friend.
Luck o’ the Irish to you!