second thoughts about St. Patrick's Day

I used to think St. Patrick's Day was an interesting excuse to drink green beer. Why else would you? I used to think of myself as half Irish, too, because Mom's maiden name was Casey. But then I got into genealogy, which is just a way to personalize history. I found a disgusting number of English surnames in the family tree, and I've learned my father's ancestors were probably Scotch-Irish or "Ulster Scots" and not "pure" Scots.

More to the point, I've read enough history of Ireland, Scotland and England to realize that the history of all three nations is written in blood. Ireland's Catholic population has been impoverished by the Catholic Church. A subsantial bulk of the early American pioneers and Revoluntionary patriots were "Ulster Scots" who came to the New World because they were tired of being caught between blood-thirsty English Protestants and equally blood-thirsty Irish Catholics (which explains why we are supposed to have separation of church and state in these United States, but that's a different subject). And yet, we ignorant Americans think of Ireland as merely a merry place to drink beer, ogle pretty red-haired ladies, and tell stories of leprechauns.

My ancestors probably wore orange, not green, and probably did not celebrate any Catholic saint. They were happy to get away from a land dominated by people we today would call warlords. I am now a "Heinz 57 American" and proud of it. So, Erin go bragh and all that, but tonight I'm sipping a little late-night Scotch to dilute the caffeine I've ingested and I'm frankly not interested in green things that you may have eaten or imbibed today.