I’ve talked a few times about stupid, meaningless holidays, and we’ve just passed another.

Oh, i imagine to those of irish descent and catholic faith this day may actually mean something; and in fact I am of irish descent somewhere back in the family tree (somewhere in the stew along with scottish, french, german, dutch, scandinavian, and even claims of cherokee).

But a any day named for a dubious catholic saint is a hard thing for this life-long atheist to to get worked up over. And a day celebrating the irish that has more to do with green beer and leprechauns strikes me as one of america’a sillier occasions to get stupid drunk.

Still – for some reason this day always leaves me feeling vaguely sad; thoughts of days past and celebrations of various sorts drift vaguely through my mind.

Maybe it’s the irish in me; maybe I’m more irish than I thought. Or maybe it’s the Jameson and the Pogues I’ve been listening to for the last few days – I’ll be fucked if I know. But I walked around all day yesterday in a funny state of mind, trying to get a billion things done, driving around, running errands; and all day I went from a vague under-current of the desire to cry, to the desire to hit someone.

Plus, the store was sold out of guiness last night. So it was that kind of holiday.

But in any case – Lets say it with song. NOt the most irish of songs, but a song that sorta speaks to me. And it’s the fuckin’ Pogues, man.

I come old friend from Hell tonight
Across the rotting sea
Nor the nails of the cross
Nor the blood of Christ
Can bring you help this eve
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
They stand outside your door
Four score and three

Listen.