I'm not sure why so many people don Irish identities to celebrate St. Patrick's Day each year. After all, in the fourth century, when Patrick was a sixteen year old boy growing up in Wales, Irish raiders kidnapped him and took him to Ireland as a slave. Six years later, he returned to England, entered the church, became a bishop and then went back to Ireland as a missionary. He was canonized in the seventh century.
St. Patrick was about as Irish as all the people who claim to be Irish each year about this time, but what better place to celebrate St. Patrick's Day than in the town of Green . . . ,Connecticut. It seems every city has a parade in his honor and every bar serves green beer. Green banners line the streets, shamrocks and leprechauns are everywhere, and even Manhattan's Empire State Building takes on a green glow.
As for me, I see it as an opportunity to clean out the back shelves in my refrigerator in search of anything green, just for the halibut. Oh no, wait, I think that was salmon at one time. Never mind.
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