Is there really anything else that needs to be said? Not really. Old guy here to the left pretty much does Ireland proud and St. Patrick’s here at O’Fringe’s is as much a celebration of age as it is the Irish in me. Here’s to the days of yore, to the sounds of cock and kettle, of kelp and the braying of the fine Irish hounds a’racin’ o’er the bogs in pursuit of a hare or a wild boar; when hustlers and docksmen teemed in Galway’s port, stacking barrels and itchin’ for some carousin’ at Fibber McGee’s; when William Butler Yeats looked o’er the sodden hills of Connemara and sighed, posting pen to paper and changin’ the world with his words; when James Joyce roamed the streets of Dublin and dreamed of Stephen Daedalus as Ulysses; when times were tough and folks were poor in health but rich in spirit; when the British left; when Tuatha de Danaan left the island to the Irish sayin’ “Now, tis yours, ya fools!”
Here’s to the history and age of Ireland, may it linger in our hearts like a pint on our tongues…
Here’s to you, Paddy. Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!