I tend to treat St. Patrick's Day like Channukah (sp?). This isn't some one day affair where we wear green, sport funny little shamrock sunglasses and pretend that it's the "stepson" of holidays. This is a day (albeit through some cultural molding and media reinvention) that is dedicated to celebrating the lifestyle of The Drink. The Drink is my own catch phrase, and although I like the sound of it when used to describe where Vinnie the Knife had to go after squealing on the Bamboli Brothers, it is a lifestyle, a creed, and a commitment. I love beer. To an extent, were it not for my lack of healthcare and free time, I should probably be in a program...but I truly love it. For a goofy white sociopath from a middle class family in the midwest, I had two paths: The Drink or serial killer. I chose The Drink largely because I have no great attention to detail; something that would stop me at murderer and never let me attain the glorified notoriety of serial murderer.
But really...I LOVE beer. I love the taste, I really do. Some people out there drink purely for the sake of the effects. Relishing that buzz, and forever struggling to get back to it. I'm sure a crash course in psychoanalysis would reveal that beer is nothing more than yet another attempt to get back to the womb. I'm also sure that it would reveal that I should've been a ranch hand...but that's neither here or there. I LOVE the taste of beer. I drink it with meals, and I'm not just talking about dinner for you "weekenders" out there...I'm talking lunch, and even brunch. I'm the guy that asks for beer at Disney Land before 10am. Why? Because I love it. I'm a stout drinker, a lager drinker, an ale drinker, and hell, to break out the box, I'll put down some mead and scream Hazzah!!! as I get heckled by a plus sized Gweneviere at the local Ren Fair. That quite simply, is the level of my commitment. So I make St. Patrick's day last. St. Patrick's begins March 1st, and it doesn't end until Feb 28th, although occasionally, I do take a day off.
