Wednesday, March 17, 2010


Laden with blarney though I may be, there’s no point in pretending that there is even the tiniest speck of Irish in me. Unless you count residual whisky.

Sometimes I am envious of our brethren from the Emerald Isle, though. I mean, when was the last time anyone wished you “the luck of the Jewish”?

I thought not.

But they say everyone is Irish on Saint Patrick’s Day, the day that commemorates the life of the ancient Saint Padraig, he who drove the snakes out of Ireland... and directly to China, where they were converted into soup and snake-bile wine.

That’s why, come evening, a small group of us will descend on one of the local establishments to enjoy a supper of corned beef and cabbage. Corned beef is one of those meats that both the Irish and the Jews appreciate, after all.

As for breakfast, what did I have?

Green Eggs

A couple of green eggs, sunny side up, fresh from the steaming nethers of my pet leprechaun!

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