I don't have a stitch of Irish in me. Plenty of blarney, I suppose, but my four sisters and I are approximately 50 percent Norwegian (mother's side) and 50 percent German (Pops). I say "approximately'' because Dad always mentioned a sliver of English on his side of the family.
Anyhow, you don't need Irish in your blood today to wear green clothes, drink green beer, sing "My Irish Eyes Are Smilin' '' and belch in the afterglow of corned beef and cabbage. But it certainly helps.
We "outsiders'' respect the traditions of the Irish. You can't help but envy the fun they have singing, dancing and making merry on St. Patrick's Day. I take particular delight in watching my friend Danny's complexion turn redder with each pull of the tap. And he is a very ruddy red to begin with.
It's worth noting that on this day in 1948 the Art Moonie Orchestra had a chart-topper with "I'm Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover'' -- and who couldn't use a lucky clover right now?
Last night at McKechnie Field the Pirates wore green caps, the bases were painted green, and the public address system sprinkled in a few Irish songs for a boisterous crowd that was eager to start the Paddy's Day festivities.
I'll wear Packer green today to blend in with the scenery. Come to think of it, I do that nearly every day. Maybe it's the Irish who are blending in with me.