It's almost St. Patrick's Day, which I swear my mother celebrates far more than a woman who is only partly Irish should, even though she did sport some pretty red hair for most of her life.  Every year on St. Patrick's Day she would leave my sister and I some appalling Avon pin outside our doors and plaster shamrocks (never four-leaf clovers, because that is a sin) about the house.  I love that she took it so far, especially considering she doesn't even drink. Ever.

Anyway, I suppose it is because of her I've always embraced my very eensy-weensy bit of Irish heritage.  I'm mostly German, which was a totally boring thing to be when you live in Scandinavian/Germanland, otherwise known as IOWA.  After moving to Chicago, being German got a little more interesting, and being Irish like totally fucking rocked.  Chicago loves their Irish.

So, in preparation for the upcoming holiday, my beloved and I decided to go see an Irish band when we were visiting my parents last weekend.  We went to this great bar which was once visited by U2, it is so dang Irish.  We were excited.  We ordered drinks.  We sat down, expecting oh, maybe "The Unicorn Song" or something.

Instead, we got about an hour of "my dad died, my sister slept with a soldier, my mother's gone mad and I'm only seven" sort of songs.  I commented on the misery spouting from the accordion player about halfway through the set.  "Mmm-hmmm," said my beloved, concentrating on his beer.  But about three songs later, he tapped my arm.  "You're totally right," he said.  "This is really rough."

Well.  I did take a few Irish literature classes in graduate school, and I do know that for quite some time, the luck of the Irish was sort of an oxymoron.  Those poor Irish, they had it really rough, and it's totally not fair.  I'm not surprised they wrote a whole bunch of sad songs about people drowning and going off to war and doing shit for England that they didn't want to do. (Don't worry, Irish, we got those English - they went to Iraq!  Bet they didn't want to do that!)  But come on, sad Irish band, I know damn well there are quite a few happy little jigs and drinking songs in your repertoire.  What up?

So anyway, it is fortunate that wasn't my first experience with an Irish band. Because if it was, I would've had to go put rocks in my pockets and walk into the Missouri River after listening to that band.