Green Beer? Nah

There's something not quite right about St. Patrick's Day. On second thought, there are quite a few things not quite right. I've never been a real fan of the holiday for several reasons:

One: It bothers me that a symbol of St. Patrick's Day is green beer. Sure, I've had my share of mugsful, but only to keep people company. Truth be told, I'd rather chug a glass of Green River (limeade) drink.

Just can't abide celebrating a day when hordes of Caucasians with red hair get drunk by over-imbibing, I guess.

Two: The pinching that goes on if you don't wear green. That gets to the point of ridiculousness. You should have seen the bruises on my arm when I was in elementary school. And the thing is, the teachers are the ones who encourage the custom.

Three: Everybody makes and consumes large quantities of corned beef and cabbage, supposedly the traditional Irish meal. But y'know, it's not traditional Irish. It's New York Jewish, a dish the Irish glommed onto when they immigrated to the United States from Ireland. What did they eat in Ireland? Mostly pork, because they couldn't afford English corned beef. So that's fake homeland tradition, right?

Four: Adding "O'" to one's last name to pretend you're Irish. Hearing people in Hawaii call themselves O'Chang, or O'Miyamoto, or O'Wollensky, or O'Sanchez ... well, that's just plain stupid.

I do like leprechuans and shamrocks. They remind me of Hawaiian menehunes eating salad.