Patron Saint

Clonmacnoise, Ireland

The Feast Day of Saint Patrick has taken-on more significance for me since we traveled and visited the Old Sod of my ancestors before COVID.  Unless you are oblivious it is obvious that the Republic of Ireland is most assuredly a bastion of the Roman Catholic tradition of the Christian faith.  And I suppose more than a few visitors are left with the impression that Ireland is - in some official capacity - a Catholic country.  While Catholics significantly outnumber all other faith traditions in Ireland, there is no reference to Catholicism in the Irish Constitution.  Ireland is officially a secular state and tolerates all belief systems.  Of course, on my visit not even once did I spy a Lutheran church.  But I digress.

Getting back to the Feast Day the story of Ireland’s Patron Saint persists and you readers are likely wondering if St. Patrick really did chase the snakes out of Ireland.  Or is that tale just a bunch of blarney?        

According to the tale way back in the fifth century the legendary priest raised his staff and banished the reptiles into the seas surrounding the Emerald Isle.  Save for those in captivity it is true that Ireland has no snakes.  But this current condition has less to do with religious tradition and more to do with geologic history and events dating many millennia ago.  Following the retreat of the last glaciers some 15,000 years ago Ireland was devoid of snakes.  Surrounded by icy waters to this very day snakes cannot swim or find their way there and as a consequence Ireland remains snake-free.         

That’s too bad because if my recreational DNA test is to be believed I am becoming more Irish with every passing year.  And I have a particular fondness for snakes. The bigger the better.   

Like this dandy five foot long Western Fox Snake.  I also like a good saint when I see one and St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish.         

Patrick was born of aristocratic blood in Britain probably around the year 390.  The legend says that he was not particularly religious.  At age 16 he was kidnapped into slavery was forced into life as a sheepherder in Ireland.  It is held that it was during this time that he found God and became a believer.         

As the story goes he began hearing voices and the voices instructed him to flee.  Which he did.  Patrick eventually found his way back to Britain and his family.  Alas, the voices returned commanding him to return to Ireland.  He was ordained a priest, went back to Ireland and spent the balance of a rather difficult life converting the pagan Celts to Christianity.  He died on March 17, 461 and was promptly forgotten.      

Nevertheless, over many years faithful conviction and belief in the story of Patrick grew.  And he grew ever larger after his death than he did in real life.  Hundreds of years after the fact he was honored as Ireland’s patron saint.         

So on March 17th we gather to pay homage to this saint who - ostensibly - banished the snakes from Ireland.  It is said that on this one day of the year everyone is Irish.          

Since I have real Irish blood coursing through my veins I intend to raise a glass of Guinness and toast my ancestors and Saint Patrick.  I will ignore the part about the sketchy British and Western European connection.         

Speaking of Guinness - according to the Guinness people somewhere around 5.5 million pints of Guinness stout are consumed world-wide each and every day.  On St. Patrick’s Day this will grow to 13 million pints; lifting a Lenten restriction on alcohol for just one day.     

Drink responsibly people.         

Sláinte!

 

Fat Tuesday

On the first of several trips to Paris over the years we stumbled-upon Carnivale.

 

Jill had sleuthed the parade routes which converged at the Place de la République, a famous square located between the 3rd, 10th, and 11th arrondissements. 

 

Naturally, we took the subway to the famous square and situated ourselves at a cafe from where we could observe the arrival of the revelers. 

 

By the time the masses had assembled we joined the festivities for some Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity. 

 

Raising a toast to travel spontaneity and Lenten tradition…..

 

(Apologies for the glitchy autofocus)

Carnivale

Mardi Gras in the United States originated in Mobile, Alabama, in 1703, over a decade before New Orleans was founded. French settlers established the Boeuf Gras (Fatted Ox) society in 1704, initiating the oldest family-friendly Carnival celebration in the Americas. 

Unlike the adults-only debauchery featured in New Orleans, Mobile hosts masked balls, parades, and mystic societies, with modern celebrations such as the Murphy High School marching band. 

That is Grandson, the Tuba Dude, on the far side of the street. 

Raising a toast to family values and Lenten tradition…..

 

 

 

Patron Saint

In the Roman Catholic tradition of the Christian Faith St. Valentine is the Patron Saint of betrothed couples, happy marriages, love, lovers, bee keepers, fainting, epilepsy, plague, travelers, and young people.  His feast day is today.   

As a consequence of so little being known about the man the Church removed St. Valentine from the General Roman Calendar in 1969.  Nevertheless, he remains recognized as a saint.  

One of many stories is that Valentine was imprisoned for committing the most heinous of crimes - marrying Christian couples and aiding Christians being persecuted by Emperor Claudius of Rome.  Angered to the point of rage Claudius commanded Valentine to renounce his faith or be beaten with clubs and beheaded.  Refusing the emperor - Valentine was martyred outside the Flaminian Gate on February 14, 269.  

In case you’re wondering if Valentine was a real person - archaeological excavations have unearthed a Roman catacomb and an ancient church dedicated to him.  In 496 Pope Gelasius marked February 14th as a celebration honoring his martyrdom.   

Today his relics can be found throughout the world – including his skull at the Basilica of Santa Maria in Rome.  

 

click on the relics for a closer look

Happy Valentines Day.

 

Never Grab A Groundhog

Did you know that New Jersey is running out of groundhogs?  Ever since Milltown Mel passed-away, this New Jersey town has faced a groundhog crisis.  Now the governor has vetoed an effort to import out-of-state replacement rodents.  Not so in neighboring Pennsylvania.   

Groundhog Day is a big event every year on this day over in Gobbler's Knob.   

Someone provokes a hibernating woodchuck named Punxsutawney Phil to come out of his hole and predict the arrival of spring.

Even I can do that.  Provoked by the alarm clock I crawled out of a perfectly warm bed this morning at 5:30 AM, poured myself a steaming cuppa joe and browsed news feeds on my laptop. It was snowing.  I therefore concluded more winter before the arrival of spring.

The man in the picture above is a fool.  You should never grab a groundhog - especially if you are going to wave it around in the air over your head.

From the Algonquian wuchak.  Also known as the whistle pig – Marmota monax belongs to the vast squirrel family. They are big rodents.

They are also sinister-looking with their small ears, beady black eyes and very sharp teeth to go with all of their claws.  I wouldn’t grab a groundhog any sooner than I'd make a grab for a beaver or a porcupine. They are capable of biting through a human hand.  They are all much too dangerous.

Trust me.  I know this.

I have had to deal with multiple critters infestations under my barn. This includes everything from bunnies, to raccoons to kittens.  One year I had a groundhog.  And that bugger was burrowing furiously.

Groundhogs are well-adapted miners.  They have short but powerful legs and very sharp claws.  They are capable of excavating hundreds of pounds of dirt.   And this fella was chucking enough dirt that it wouldn’t be long before he seriously undermined the structural integrity of the barn foundation.

Shooting a woodchuck is against the law in Wisconsin. Yep. They’re protected – just like badgers and wolves.  Not wanting to draw the attention of the local game warden and pleading a landowner exception I opted for the old reliable method.

Mothballs.

I poured a box of mothballs down the woodchuck’s hole.  Oh sure, your barn will smell like grandma for awhile but critters cannot stand mothballs.  And it worked almost immediately for me.

I was puttering in the machine shed when old Phil (smelling strangely of naphthalene) waddled his way into the shed and gave me the hairy eyeball.  He was not happy.  Actually, he was angry to the point of provocation because he reared-up on his hind legs and gave me a nasty bark.

Taking a machete from the peg board I waved it menacingly and told him to get the heck out of my shed.

He scurried away retreating behind a sheet of plywood leaning against the wall.

I grabbed a garden rake and thrust it in his face.

He snorted and whistled and parried back with his claws. 

Claw for claw - back and forth we went. Parry and thrust. I was gaining the upper hand and Phil was losing ground.

Finally forced from the shed he scurried a safe distance from the crazy guy with the rake, turned and gave me a dirty look and waddled-off in the direction of a neighboring farm.

Nasty attitude the groundhog has.

Dangerous too.

 *This post was first published on the JSOnline WauwatosaNOW Gas Pains blog on February 2, 2010.

2025

On this last day of the year it seem appropriate to share some highlights of those brief, fleeting, moments associated with family, travel, food, community and more.

Google Photo periodically furnishes unsolicited photo vignettes using their AI platform

Happy New Year and thank you for reading, following and sharing.  See you next year on the flip side....

Trip of The Magi - Chapter, Verse and Calendar

From the Gospel of Matthew we all know of the the story about the Magi or the Three Kings. In three paragraphs it goes like this: 

Kings?  Wise Men? More likely priests or wealthy astrologers who journeyed from Arabia, Babylon or Persia.  More importantly, they came to pay homage and to worship Jesus.  And they came bearing gifts; rare and expensive gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  Symbolically, some would suggest this is significant proof of gentiles recognizing Jesus as king; thus marking a turning point in Christian tradition.  

After their arrival the Magi were warned in a dream to avoid King Herod and to return via a different route to throw-off snooping Romans with murderous intentions.  An angel also appears to Joseph in a dream with a warning that Herod intends to slay his child.  Consequently Joseph, Mary and Jesus flee to Egypt.  They return home only after there is news of Herod's death.   

With the passage of time the 'Three Kings' received names:  Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar even though the bible is silent about their identities.  Their appearance along with shepherds in nativity scenes is a bit of a historical mash-up; but more about that in a bit.  

What about the star?

Was the appearance of the star a literal event or a symbolic literary device? 

There is no scientific astronomical evidence to suggest a star moving as described.  Due to the Earth's rotation a real star (fixed in the heavens of the northern hemisphere) would be unable to move east to Jerusalem and stop over a house in Bethlehem.  It is possible there may have been a supernova, comet or planetary conjunction - naturally-occurring astronomical events -  explaining its appearance.  Needless to say, some faith traditions suggest the appearance of the star was divine, a genuinely miraculous event.  

Only the Gospel of Matthew mentions it; the Gospel of Luke does not.  Some biblical scholars have suggested that the appearance of the star may have been a later addition to Matthew's narrative to serve as a literary device - a metaphor or allusion for his audience.

The bible does not specify tell us when Jesus was born.  There are only clues such as Herod The Great's reign and a census facilitated under Syrian Governor Quirinius.  The Scriptures are silent as to a specific year and date.  The birth story of Jesus is found only in the Gospels of Mathew and Luke 1-2 and place his birth during the reign of King Herod.  Herod died in 4 BCE; consequently, Jesus was likely born between 7 and 2 BCE.  Naturally, this conflicts with the later Christian calendar system.  A calendar miscalculated in the 6th century. 

Matthew 2:1-12 informs us that the star appeared at Jesus' birth and appeared from the east.  Upon the arrival of the Magi; Joseph, Mary and Jesus are living in a house (not a stable) and Jesus is referred-to as a child.  Furthermore, Herod orders the slaying of all boys two years of age and under.

The implication is that the star materialized shortly prior to or at the time of Jesus' birth, hypothetically 6–5 BCE.  The Magi arrive months or possibly 1-2 years later.  Herod dies 4 BCE.  The adoration of the Magi would be unlikely to coincide with the visitation of the shepherds.

So why is it only Matthew mentions the star and Luke mentions shepherds instead of Magi? 

The answer may be found in their respective audiences.  Inasmuch as there was no single and consistent birth narrative in very early Christianity both Matthew and Luke tell a true story as they understood it, using different oral and written traditions shaped by purpose; and complementing one another.

Matthew was preaching to a Jewish audience; consequently, he focused on the fulfillment of old testament scripture and prophecy.  Numbers 24:17: A star shall come out of Jacob; symbolism and prophecy signaling the birth of a Jewish king. 

Luke was preaching to a Greco-Roman audience; consequently he places an emphasis on shepherds, angels and census records.  Stars and astrology add little theological substance and are avoided. Luke explicitly says he chose what to include in Luke 1:1-4; an orderly account of Jesus' life.   

In closing, why December 25?  First-off it's not a historical date and was likely adopted somewhere around the 4th century.  This is because Christian holy days and important events were intentionally chosen over many years to supplant pagan holidays, Roman festivals and themes like those of the triumph of light over darkness.  The Winter Solstice comes to mind.  This was done for theological, liturgical and evangelical reasons.  To be clear, it is not historical conflict; rather it is the intentional telling of Christian theology.

The story of Jesus' birth, the Magi, shepherds, Herod, Matthew and Luke have captured the hearts of untold millions of believers, wanna-believers and the attention of some non-believers.  It is a a story rich in drama and allegorical symbolism.  It is a fun story readily embraced by children.  And as with many things in life; parts of the story are supported by history and science and other parts are articles off faith.  Neither are irreconcilable. 

Happiest of holidays to all my readers however you celebrate them; or not.

Cheers!

Winner, Winner...

....Christmas Chicken Dinner!  

One of our all-time fave repasts.

Scored a five pound Amish chicken, humanely-raised and hormone-free.  

Stuffed with homemade dressing made last evening.  Popped it into the oven on the Convection Roast setting at 12:30 PM.  Another bonus crock of additional dressing and a humongous yam anointed in bacon drippings went in 45 minutes later.

Finished everything by 3 PM, including pan dripping gravy and whole kernel sweet corn from the garden.   

Dished-up by 3:30 PM.

Pretty good chow if you can get it.

Merry Christmas! 

Thursday Morning Music

On account of today being Christmas, Friday Morning Music arrives on Thursday this week.

Composed by Greg Lake with lyrics by Peter Sinfield this tune periodically gets an undeserved anti-religion rap.  The truth of the matter is Lake wrote the song in protest of the commercialization of Christmas.  Sinfield has insisted that the words are about the loss of innocence and childhood belief. So, I dunno.  Combination of the two?

Released as a debut solo single in 1975 it reached Number 2 of the UK Singles Chart. This happens to be a YouTube Short compilation - full length recordings are available on YouTube.

I Believe In Father Christmas..... 

Nativity Story

The Bible story of the virgin birth is at the center of much of the holiday cheer this time of year. The book of Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem because Caesar Augustus decreed a census should be taken. Mary gave birth after arriving in Bethlehem and placed baby Jesus in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.       

Some people think Mary and Joseph were mistreated by a greedy innkeeper, who only cared about profits and decided the couple was not worth his normal accommodations. This version of the story (narrative) has been repeated many times in plays, skits, and sermons. It fits an anti-capitalist mentality that paints business owners as greedy, or even evil.         

It persists even though the Bible records no complaints and there was apparently no charge for the stable. It may be the stable was the only place available. Bethlehem was over-crowded with people forced to return to their ancestral home for a census – ordered by the Romans – for the purpose of levying taxes. If there was a problem, it was due to unintended consequences of government policy. In this narrative, the government caused the problem.          

The innkeeper was generous to a fault – a hero even. He was over-booked, but he charitably offered his stable, a facility he built with unknowing foresight. The innkeeper was willing and able to offer this facility even as government officials, who ordered and administered the census, slept in their own beds with little care for the well-being of those who had to travel regardless of their difficult life circumstances.         

 If you must find "evil" in either of these narratives, remember that evil is ultimately perpetrated by individuals, not the institutions in which they operate. And this is why it's important to favor economic and political systems that limit the use and abuse of power over others.  In the story of baby Jesus, a government law that requires innkeepers to always have extra rooms, or to take in anyone who asks, would "fix" the problem.    

But these laws would also have unintended consequences. Fewer investors would back hotels because the cost of the regulations would reduce returns on investment. A hotel big enough to handle the rare census would be way too big in normal times. Even a bed and breakfast would face the potential of being sued. There would be fewer hotel rooms, prices would rise, and innkeepers would once again be called greedy. And if history is our guide, government would chastise them for price-gouging and then try to regulate prices.

This does not mean free markets are perfect or create utopia; they aren't and they don't. But businesses can't force you to buy a service or product. You have a choice – even if it's not exactly what you want. And good business people try to make you happy in creative and industrious ways.         

Government doesn't always care. In fact, if you happen to live in North Korea or Cuba, and are not happy about the way things are going, you can't leave. And just in case you try, armed guards will help you think things through.         

This is why the Framers of the US Constitution made sure there were "checks and balances" in our system of government. These checks and balances don't always lead to good outcomes; we can think of many times when some wanted to ignore these safeguards. But, over time, the checks and balances help prevent the kinds of despotism we've seen develop elsewhere.         

Neither free market capitalism, nor the checks and balances of the Constitution are the equivalent of having a true Savior. But they should give us all hope that the future will be brighter than many seem to think.

Credit - First Trust Advisors

Ode To A Fir Tree

Originally a traditional German folk song this tune had little if anything to do with Christmas - or describe a decorated Christmas tree.  The original lyrics had everything to do with a fir tree’s evergreen quality as a symbol of constancy and faithfulness.  You see, a Tannenbaum is a fir tree.  

The folk song eventually became associated with the celebration of Christmas when Ernst Anschütz added two additional verses of his own to the traditional verse in 1824.  The custom of the Christmas tree developed in the course of the 19th century and with Anschütz’s changes the song came to be seen as a Christmas carol early in the 20^th century.

Gay Men's Chorus of Los Angeles.  My contribution to getting my friends in the spirit of the holiday...

You Know Who

The holiday spirit would be somewhat diminished without this smiling sprite.... 

Real or Fake?

At any given moment, there are approximately half a billion Christmas trees growing for future harvest that otherwise would not be there.

While they are growing, they’re absorbing carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen, stabilizing soil and providing valuable wildlife habitat.

As trees are harvested, new trees are planted to take their place.

And unlike artificial trees, real trees can often be purchased from local farms.

And your house will smell nice too.

Raising a toast to sustainability.
 

Thankful

I don't harbor any large grievances.  I have a few minor issues but they're basically trivial in the grand scheme of things.

I have a great deal to be thankful-for.  My family, my friends, a comfortable retirement, a terrific community and the great outdoors.  I am in reasonably good health (for an old man), I still have my marbles and a seemingly unlimited supply of firewood.

S'all good, man.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Crailsheim

Perfect timing for the Thanksgiving Holiday.

A photo from early to mid 1950s or thereabouts.

 

That's my dad - the civilian in the lower right corner. He was the Principal of the base school at McKee Barracks and taught 7th grade as well. I was born in Germany during the time we lived at McKee in the 1950s.

 

I cannot be sure of the circumstances but those are base children dressed as 'pilgrims' on a thanksgiving-themed float of some sorts on a Crailsheim street.

 

There is a placard attached to the flatbed but I cannot make it out or if it's written in English or German for that matter.

 

Have a restful Thanksgiving Holiday everyone - We have much to be thankful-for.

Armistice Day

On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918, there was a temporary cessation of hostilities on the Western Front of World War I as a consequence of the armistice signed by the Allies and Germany.

American troops in France celebrate the armistice

On its first anniversary President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed November 11, 1919 as the first celebration of Armistice Day.  In 1938 this day officially became a federal holiday.  Later, in the aftermath of World War II and the Korean War, Armistice Day became known as Veterans Day in the United States.  And while the allied nations honor members of their armed forces on Armistice Day – we commemorate it as Veterans Day.  

Inasmuch as today is Veterans Day I figure I'd take a moment to talk about my favorite veteran - Howard Gaertner.  Who also happens to be my dad.  Dad has been gone now for more than fifteen years already but I'm sure he'd appreciate the mention. 

This picture of him was taken in Kidderminster England, November 2, 1944. 

He'd already spent more than three months in combat - including the invasion at Normandy, the battle of the hedgerows, the breakout of the bocage at Saint-Lô, the dash across northern France with Patton's forces and the liberation of Belgium.  He was evacuated to England after being wounded in the Meuse River crossing in September of 1944.  Following his convalescence he returned to Europe serving until the cessation of hostilities in May of 1945 including the Army of Occupation.  

This was turning out to be much more than an average adventure for a previously skinny depression-era kid who was drafted after graduating high school.  

Thinking of dad today and giving a shout out to all of my acquaintances and friends who have served in the armed forces of our nation and call themselves veterans.

Halloween

Anyone know if and when the Ghost Ship will make her appearance?

Hard to know with the shut down and all…

Friday Music

On July 2nd, the Continental Congress voted in favor of independence.  

 A couple of days later its delegates to the Congress  adopted the Declaration of Independence - a historic document drafted by Thomas Jefferson. 

From 1776 until the present day, July 4th has been celebrated as the birth of American independence.  

To celebrate the holiday here is American roots-rocker Dave Alvin having a really good time singing an original of his with David Hidalgo, Flaco Jimenez, Pete Sears, Max Baca and Los Cenzontles at the benefit for Los Cenzontles Cultural Arts Academy at the home of Robert Mailer Anderson and Nicola Miner, San Francisco, February 16, 2017,

4th of July.....

Memorial Day

It is, in a way an odd thing to honor those who died in defense of our country....in wars far away.  The imagination plays a trick.  We see these soldiers in our mind as old and wise.  We see them as something like the Founding Fathers, grave and gray haired.

But most of them were boys when they died, and they gave up two lives - the one they were living and one they would have lived...

- Ronald Reagan

Originally called Decoration Day - Memorial Day is a day of remembrance for those who have died in service to our country.

There is an American Cemetery and Memorial located in Colleville-sur-Mer on the bluff overlooking Omaha Beach in Normandy, France.  Dedicated in 1956 the Cemetery and Memorial is situated closely to the site of the temporary American St. Laurent Cemetery, established by the U.S. First Army on June 8, 1944 - the first American cemetery on European soil in World War II.  

This is the final resting place of 9,388 of our military dead - most of whom lost their lives in the D-Day landings and ensuing operations.  If you were to visit this place you will note that upon the walls of the Garden of the Missing are inscribed an additional 1,557 names.  And because old battlefields continue to yield their dead - rosettes mark the names of those since recovered and identified.

In Plot E Row 26 Grave 37 rests James D. Johnston - Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Army, 47th Infantry Regiment, 9th Infantry Division.  Jill and I walked this sacred place on a typical rainy Norman morning and while I have no direct connection to James Johnston, his life before the war, or his survivors following the war what you can discern from the marker is that Johnston was from North Carolina and was a commander in the same division and infantry regiment my dad served.  

Some of you know that my father landed at Utah Beach as an infantry replacement.  He was a machine gunner in a heavy weapons platoon.  Dad fought in the battle of the hedgerows, the breakout at Saint-Lô and Patton's mad dash across northern France.  His participation in the liberation of Belgium was interrupted by wounds incurred in combat.  Following his recovery in England he served for a brief period in the US Army of Occupation in Germany.

Dad returned home from the war and lived a full and rewarding life. He worked quietly in a public school system and never spoke about his war experiences in any great detail until I was in college. I am alive today to muse about this subject because he survived.  James Johnston never had the opportunity to sit on the stoop and share closely-guarded feelings about the war with a son.  

This is why Memorial Day is personal to me.

A bit of reading reveals that Johnston died from wounds suffered from the detonation of a German 88mm shell at the blood-stained Crossroads 114 near Acqueville just outside of Cherbourg.  Death in combat was fickle in the skirmishes and battle for mere meters in the uneven and mixed woodlands and pastures of the Bocage.  PFC Gaertner survived - Lt Col Johnston did not.

When it came time for a permanent burial, the families of the dead were asked if they wanted their loved ones repatriated for permanent burial in the U.S. or interred overseas.  Lieutenant Colonel Johnston's remains lie here with approximately 461 graves belonging to 9th Infantry Division G.I.s.

Today it is useful to remember and honor the lives that brave men and women sacrificed.  

Both of those lives.
 

click on images for a closer look

 

 

_{*Eight Stars to Victory - Mittelman, The Battery Press}

 

A Wee Bit O'Blarney

Clonmacnoise, Ireland

The Feast Day of Saint Patrick has taken-on more significance for me since we traveled and visited the Old Sod of my ancestors before COVID.  Unless you are oblivious it is obvious that the Republic of Ireland is most assuredly a bastion of the Roman Catholic tradition of the Christian faith.  And I suppose more than a few visitors are left with the impression that Ireland is - in some official capacity - a Catholic country.  While Catholics significantly outnumber all other faith traditions in Ireland, there is no reference to Catholicism in the Irish Constitution.  Ireland is officially a secular state and tolerates all belief systems.  Of course, on my visit not even once did I spy a Lutheran church.  But I digress.

Getting back to the Feast Day the story of Ireland’s Patron Saint persists and you readers are likely wondering if St. Patrick really did chase the snakes out of Ireland.  Or is that tale just a bunch of blarney?        

According to the tale way back in the fifth century the legendary priest raised his staff and banished the reptiles into the seas surrounding the Emerald Isle.  Save for those in captivity it is true that Ireland has no snakes.  But this current condition has less to do with religious tradition and more to do with geologic history and events dating many millennia ago.  Following the retreat of the last glaciers some 15,000 years ago Ireland was devoid of snakes.  Surrounded by icy waters to this very day snakes cannot swim or find their way there and as a consequence Ireland remains snake-free.         

That’s too bad because if my recreational DNA test is to be believed I am becoming more Irish with every passing year.  And I have a particular fondness for snakes. The bigger the better.   

Like this dandy five foot long Western Fox Snake.  I also like a good saint when I see one and St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish.         

Patrick was born of aristocratic blood in Britain probably around the year 390.  The legend says that he was not particularly religious.  At age 16 he was kidnapped into slavery was forced into life as a sheepherder in Ireland.  It is held that it was during this time that he found God and became a believer.         

As the story goes he began hearing voices and the voices instructed him to flee.  Which he did.  Patrick eventually found his way back to Britain and his family.  Alas, the voices returned commanding him to return to Ireland.  He was ordained a priest, went back to Ireland and spent the balance of a rather difficult life converting the pagan Celts to Christianity.  He died on March 17, 461 and was promptly forgotten.      

Nevertheless, over many years faithful conviction and belief in the story of Patrick grew.  And he grew ever larger after his death than he did in real life.  Hundreds of years after the fact he was honored as Ireland’s patron saint.         

So on March 17th we gather to pay homage to this saint who - ostensibly - banished the snakes from Ireland.  It is said that on this one day of the year everyone is Irish.          

Since I have real Irish blood coursing through my veins I intend to raise a glass of Guinness and toast my ancestors and Saint Patrick.  I will ignore the part about the sketchy British and Western European connection.         

Speaking of Guinness - according to the Guinness people somewhere around 5.5 million pints of Guinness stout are consumed world-wide each and every day.  On St. Patrick’s Day this will grow to 13 million pints.     

Drink responsibly people.         

Sláinte!