O'verrated

Once upon a time in America, when anti-immigrant xenophobia was not constrained to 'alien' requirements of brownness and/or practitioners of non-Western religions, my great-grandfather refused to walk my great aunt down the aisle at her wedding.  His grievance with her: she was marrying outside of the race.  Rather than sticking with a ruddy-faced Irishman, she was egregiously daring to mate with an Eye-Talian.  All that he, his homeland and its potato famine had stood for was being wiped away in the blink of a marital eye.  It would not serve my great grandfather justice, or my Karma well, to frame him as an angry Irish xenophobe.  Along with building half of the town of Dorchester and leaving a legacy of generosity and ambition that still serves my family well, he left two of the greatest men in this world as his heirs- my father and my grandfather (who, it should be noted, proudly escorted his transgressing sister down the aisle to her life-long love).  

Big Bill, as he was referred to in reverence and fear by my dad and his siblings, came to mind last night as I celebrated my Irish heritage in fine style- drinking Red Wine and eating Chicken Cacciatore at a local Italian restaurant.  There was not a brough in sight as I drizzled olive oil on my ciabatta bread nor was there a Scalley cap to be found as I was escorted to and from my table by a thug-like individual who was so off-the-boat Italian looking that I swear he could be an extra in any Godfather movie.  I'm pretty sure that Big Bill rolled many a time in his grave in his post-mortem awareness of the serenade by an Italian quartet singing That's Amore to his descendant, while only blocks away a drunken Irishman wailed out, Oh Danny Boy.  

The truth is, I've left the Hot Mess that is St. Patrick's Day in Boston well in my past.  I have no energy to deal with excessively drunken individuals nor their green beer and temporary tattoos of shamrocks.  As one of my favorite people says in response to the slogan, 'Every one's Irish on St. Patrick's Day!', I'm Irish everyday.  I don't need to OD on Guinness on March 17th to assert my heritage.  

Italian food is WAY better than Corned Beef and Cabbage anyway.  We should have started incorporating the Eye-talians into our holidays a long time ago.