Earlier today, I called my friend up – just to say hello. This is a guy who is fresh off some discouraging JDate experiences. He wouldn’t admit to feeling down, but I’m convinced that he is. To top it off, he slaves away in a neuroscience lab, often well beyond dinnertime.
When he answered the phone, however, he wasn’t at work. He was at American Apparel, where he’d just bought a green V-neck T-shirt.
Of course, I made fun of him. Who buys a T-shirt just for a holiday?
Do you know what his answer was? I shouldn’t be cursing on this blog, but what he said was so amazing that I don’t want to tamper with it.
He said, “I don’t give a shit.”
Is that not the best thing you’ve heard all day? I certainly thought it was great. I liked it so much that I momentarily re-evaluated my cynicism.
“Good answer,” I said.
It was, because tonight, my friend will proudly sport his spanking new green V-neck T shirt. He will merrily stagger in and out of packed, noisy bars until the wee hours of the morning (or at least until 2 AM). He will pound several beers and toast his buddies. He will probably hug strangers. He will forget about his woes. And that’s what St. Patrick’s Day is about. Sure, the holiday is Catholic in origin, but finding an excuse to celebrate life is a notion that transcends religion.
Be safe, and, of course:
P.S. My editor emailed me a link to Jerusalem Post article “The Irish-Jewish Connection.” Did you know that the protagonist in Irishman James Joyce’s “Ulysses” is part Jewish?
I didn’t either. That book is, like, really hard to read.
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